A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare Read Free Book Online Page A

point. No, you don’t fit the beautiful, elegant, predictable mold. But take heart, Marissa. Some men like to be surprised.”
    Marissa?
    She stared at him, horrified. And thrilled. And horrified at being thrilled. “You. Are. The most—”
    A bell jingled. The Bull and Blossom’s door swung open, and a handful of giggling village girls tumbled forth, riding a wave of music and warmth. Minerva’s breath caught. If the girls turned this way, she and Payne would be seen. Together.
    “Surprise,” she whispered.
    Then she pressed her lips to his.

Chapter Four
     
    S urprise, she said.
    Surprise indeed.
    Sweetness. That was the first surprise. He’d heard so many tart words from these lips . . . but her kiss was sweet. Cool and sweet, with a hint of true decadence beneath. Like a sun-ripened plum at the height of summer. Ready to fall into his hand at the slightest inducement.
    The falling. That was surprise the second. As she leaned into the kiss, she fell into him . He tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
    Their bodies met.
    But that wasn’t the right word. Their bodies had “met” some months ago, that night in the Summerfield gardens. Now their bodies renewed the acquaintance. The sense of intimacy was immediate, startling. The jasmine scent of her hair cocked a trigger, deep inside him. A memory stored not in his mind, but in his blood.
    Which brought him to surprise the third.
    Pleasure. Triumph. Damn, he’d been wanting this. He hadn’t known it. Would have gone to his grave before admitting it. But a part of him had been wanting this. Badly, and for quite some time. He wasn’t learning her through this kiss, so much as confirming long-suspected truths. That for all her unfeminine interests and education, she was pure woman beneath. That she didn’t feel prickly and stubborn in his arms, but warm and pliant, her curves molding to his strength.
    That he could make her melt. Sigh. Tremble.
    That one taste of her wouldn’t be enough.
    He ran his tongue over her closed lips, seeking more. It had been ages since he’d kissed a girl simply for kissing’s sake, and he’d forgotten what a pure, heady pleasure it could be. He wanted to sink into that cool sweetness. Get drunk on it, bathe in it. Utterly lose himself in a fathoms-deep kiss.
    Open. Open for me.
    A little sound escaped her. Something like a squeak. Her lips remained sealed under his.
    He tried again, lightly dragging his tongue toward the corner of her mouth. Slowly, reverently—the way he knew a woman enjoyed being licked, just about anywhere.
    Finally, her lips parted. He swept his tongue between them, tasting her. God, she was so sweet and fresh. But utterly still. Unmoving. Unbreathing. He paused to sip at her plump lower lip before trying again. He pressed a little deeper this time, swirling his tongue before retreating.
    The sweet sigh of her breath whispered against his cheek. It was a confession, that sigh. It told him two things.
    First, she had no earthly idea how to kiss him back.
    But, secondly? She wanted to. She’d been waiting for this, too.
    As they broke apart, a sense of mutual disbelief wavered in the air.
    “Why—?” Her hands pressed flat against her belly. For a moment, she looked everywhere but at him. Then she lowered her voice and asked, “Whyever would you do that?”
    “What do you mean?” he asked, chuckling. “You kissed me .”
    “Yes, but why would you do . . .” Her face twisted. “The rest of it.”
    Colin paused. “Because . . . that’s the way a grown man kisses a woman?”
    She stared at him.
    For God’s sake, she couldn’t be that naïve.
    “I know you can’t have had much experience, but surely someone’s explained the natural way of things between the sexes?” He held out his hands in an attitude of illustration and cleared his throat. “It’s like this, you see. When a man cares for a woman very, very much . . .”
    She buffeted his shoulder with her fist, once.