Dance of the Crystal by Cris Anson Read Free Book Online

spun on his heel and flopped down on the wing chair that Trey had so recently occupied, shut his eyes tight and gripped the brocade arms until his knuckles showed white.
    “Are you all right?” Crystal’s soft, concerned voice sounded right at his ear.
    Cautiously he opened his eyes. Mistake.
    She was bent toward him, breasts at his eye level. He could see the slight difference in color where the white bra pushed against the white sweater. He could also see—God, the lump in his throat felt like a fist—her nipples poking twin tents in the fabric.
    “Soren?” Her warm palm grazed his cheek. “Can I get you something? Brandy? Water?”
    His groan came out like a growl. As if of their own volition, his hands reached out to cup her firm ass cheeks and draw her in between his outspread thighs. He pillowed his head between her breasts and inhaled the aroma of her, a flower-and-orange scent along with a subtle musk that was definitely female.
    He felt her lean down and put her cheek on the crown of his head, hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
    Oh man, he was a goner.
    With great delicacy he ran his palms up and down her ass, explored the contour of her hips melding into the curve of her waist. His thumbs caressed her rib cage, circling higher and higher until he reached the heavy weight of her breasts. He moved his head until his mouth grazed one nipple. The feel of that hard nubbin through the sweater made hot blood surge to his cock. He closed his lips around the tip of her breast.
    She drew in a halting breath and whispered his name.
    Taking that as encouragement, Soren increased the pressure, alternately suckling and lightly raking it with his teeth. She snuggled him closer into her embrace, her hands cupping the back of his head, her breath coming in shorter gasps.
    He tilted his head back, slid his hands beneath her sweater and shoved the material up over her breasts.
    “Tell me I’m not dreaming,” he murmured as he flicked his thumbs back and forth over the silky bra enclosing what surely had to be the most glorious tits he’d ever seen in or out of a magazine.
    The sudden revving of an engine broke into his befogged brain and he realized where he was. Where they were. He dropped his hands to her hips. “Crystal, we have to stop.”
    “Mmmm, why’s that?”

    “Your grandmother’s likely to come barging in any minute to see what’s going on.”
    Crystal laughed, a slow sultry sound. “She can’t.”
    “No, really, we have to—”
    “Soren, read my lips. Grandma didn’t lock us in. She locked herself and everyone else out.”
    Soren blinked. “Huh?”
    “The door unlocks only from the inside. We can stay here until tomorrow if we want and nobody will interrupt us.”
    Soren’s focus sharpened. “So she actually expected us to do…what we’re doing.”
    “I think she was hoping.”
    Abruptly he stood. “I can’t compromise you like that. She’ll know. It’s not right.”
    Crystal stood toe to toe with him, fists on her hips. Having to look up at him, however, took some of the sternness out of her reply. “I’m old enough to make that decision for myself.”
    “I can’t do it. It shows a lack of respect to do…anything under her roof, knowing that she knows what we’re doing.”
    She rose on tiptoe, snaked her arms around his waist and gave him a kiss that nearly blew his ears off.
    “You’re so sweet, Soren, but I want more.”
    “No. You only think you do. You’re reacting to your grandmother’s subliminal suggestion, that’s all.
    You’re a…a…what did the newspaper call you? A socialite. You’ve got money, class, a pedigree. I’m a bartender, for God’s sake.”
    She gave him a meltingly soft look. “I want you, Soren.”
    His teeth clenched. He could feel the panic building. Oh boy, was he out of his element. Why hadn’t he had more practice with women in general? What the hell was he supposed to do now?
    “But I’ll wait.” With that simple declaration she