Crazy Sweet by Tara Janzen Read Free Book Online

in her mouth, her hand still stroking him, her tongue, hot and silky, snaking over the top of him. He reached behind her and turned off the water, and it was all so perfect, the heat and steam, the utter relaxation of his mind, and Gillian—going down on him.
    Sometimes the girl liked to be in charge, of everything, and he didn’t mind. Oh, hell, no.
    Leaning back against the shower wall, he thrust his hips forward, his hand gently cupping the back of her head. He thrust again, and she took more of him. Again, and he went even deeper. Geezus .
    Minute after endless minute of pleasure doubled over on each other, the rhythm of her mouth, the hot, wet glides of her tongue down the length of him and back up, and the sucking—God, he loved it. She didn’t stop, just kept taking him higher, winding him up tighter with her hands and mouth, until inevitably, irresistibly, she took him to orgasm. Braced against the wall, he went rigid and just let it happen, just the way she liked it, his muscles straining, his cock so hard inside the softness of her mouth, and pure, hot pleasure pouring out of him.
    She held him where he stood, until he was finished. When she released him, he bent his knees and slid down to be with her on the shower floor. Gathering her in his arms, he took her mouth in a deep kiss and slid one hand down between her legs. She was so soft to the touch, so beautiful, so wonderfully, erotically wet—and she could count on him, every time.
    “Come on, sweetheart,” he said, bringing her with him to her feet as he stood up. “Let’s go have some fun in bed.”
    CHAPTER
    6

    H ONORIA “HONEY” YORK had been warned about traveling to El Salvador . Third World slumming, her father had called it, something best left to others, though he hadn’t named the “others.”
    He hadn’t needed to. Everyone knew the name.
    Not much shopping, her mother had cautioned, and therefore not much to do with one’s time.
    Her oldest brother, Thomas, had suggested his place on St. Barts, if she really felt the need to get away. Two of her other brothers had decided to take Thomas up on his offer and left a week ago with a few cases of Dom and a small posse of up-and-coming models. Her fourth brother was temporarily out of touch while on an expedition to the North Pole to draw attention to his latest political cause, global warming. It was working. He had a BBC crew with him, and an independent filmmaker who had cut a deal with the Discovery Channel for any exclusive polar bear footage that came out of the grand adventure, and a deal with Rolling Stone for any footage of her brother’s rock-and-roll-star girlfriend doing anything in fur and a pair of mukluks.
    Grand, outrageous adventures—that’s what the York family had, what they’d been having since the first York had left the family estates in England over two hundred years ago and braved their way to the New World and a whole new level of wealth and social notoriety.
    Yorks did not have dangerous encounters in pestilent hotel rooms with ill-kempt men carrying guns. At least no York in good standing ever had until today, a tricky designation at best, and no one talked about the Yorks not in good standing. There was only one, actually, the one who had gotten Honoria into hot water up to her neck again. Then she’d gone and all by herself made it so much worse.
    Oh, God . She should have known better than to take any advice offered by Elliot “Kip” Fletcher-Wooten III. Anyone who had graduated from Harvard and taken less than ten years to wash up in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, as the manager of a beachside cabana resort with a high-season rack rate of less than two hundred dollars a night was obviously from the shallow end of the Fletcher-Wooten gene pool.
    Actually, any male over the age of three who allowed himself to be called “Kip-Woo” had probably been doomed from the start. The same, she realized, might be said of any female over the age of three who allowed