Captivated (Stranded) by Mia West Read Free Book Online

There had been so much more to it, not just an isolated cock. His chest expanding into hers, his breath puffing against her lips, his eyes…
    His eyes, full of panic.
    She had so wanted to take his face in her hands, but he had shoved himself away. She’d tried to make light of it, and then apologize, but it wasn’t until they had reached his apartment that he had begun to relax. Thinking it best to steer clear of sex talk, she’d gotten him talking about where he’d grown up. When she learned he had two brothers, she had homed in on that and kept him talking about them, and by the time dinner was ready, he had let her back in a bit, trading jabs about the merits of a childhood in Ohio versus Iowa. (Ohio, hands down. Of course.) When she’d set a mountain of spaghetti in front of him, he had demolished it.
    Now she lay in the dark, wondering what he was doing behind the closet door. Maybe only sleeping. After all that pasta, he was probably comatose. And dealing with her crazy would wear anyone out. But she did wonder, as she slid her forearm against her belly, if before he fell asleep, he might, possibly, have remembered the feel of her breasts under him, of her heels against the backs of his thighs.
    Air moved across her temple again, more of a breeze this time, and then…laughter.
    Laine abandoned her attempts at fantasy and sat up to find that the kitchen window stood open.
    She padded to it. She could see the sidewalk across the street, but the angle was too steep to see the near walk or the laughing couple, wherever they were. The window opened onto a narrow metal balcony and stairs. Ascending stairs.
    Was he up there now?
    She was on the balcony with one foot on a riser when she realized she had forgotten to put on her skirt. She wore only her blouse and panties. Well, she only wanted to have a peek. If he was there, she would come right back down so she wouldn’t embarrass him.
    The punched metal of the stairs scraped the soles of her feet as she climbed them. She was practically at the rooftop already, having started in the attic, and so the city unfolded quickly below her. Not the blaze of all-night light that Paris was reported to be, but golden with street lamps all the same. She could make out the tall spires of Sagrada Familia . The chaotic maze of city streets was balanced by the dark, calm presence of the harbor.
    When she gained the rooftop, she tried to scan its flat surface, but a large metal cube stood in her way, part of the air conditioning system. She stepped off the stairs onto the rough sandpaper texture of the roof. Holding on to the structure blocking her view, she crept around it. And there, in the center of the rooftop, stood Evan.
    Naked.
    Make that naked and wet .
    He stood in some kind of low pool beneath a tall, flared tank. The tank looked like a funnel, and she realized that was exactly what it was: a rainwater collection tank. Evan was bathing in the pool at its base.
    She stood silently for several minutes, watching him. The moon gave off just enough light to highlight the contours of his body, which was…
    She gulped air.
    Gorgeous. That damn uniform really had some explaining to do for hiding this body from her. Muscular thighs, flat belly, flexing arms, broad shoulders, and every bit of him now streaked with rivulets of rainwater. Laine’s mouth twinged with thirst. She lifted a hand to her throat, and the movement caught his eye.
    He froze, the cloth in his hand dripping its water back into the pool. He couldn’t bolt, she didn’t think, if the only access was behind her. At any rate, he didn’t move. She waited for him to tell her to go away. But he didn’t do that either. So she stepped toward him.
    He straightened when he realized she was approaching, and squeezed the rest of the water out of the cloth. It hit the surface of the pool with a sloosh that gave voice to the slippery-sliding sensation in Laine’s belly. He watched her, his gaze so intense she let hers drop