Freed by Lynetta Halat Read Free Book Online

myself for braiding my hair for him. It’s not just his favorite anymore.
    “Hey,” I gasp, as goose bumps make quick work of my body. Despite the warm coat, I shiver.
    “What the hell is this?” he murmurs, his hands running down the fringe that rests over my breasts. Even though the leather rests between them, my nipples harden under his touch.
    “You like?”
    “I fucking love,” he whispers, trailing kisses along my jaw and to my mouth. “It’s sexy as hell, but where’s your skirt?”
    Laughing, I state, “Present and accounted for, sir.” I said the word playfully, and with anyone else, it wouldn’t have the same meaning. I still hadn’t determined how I felt about it until it slipped from my mouth. Decision made: It’s kinda hot .
    He withdraws his mouth from mine, an impish grin resting on both sets. “Sir?” He asks with a crooked brow.
    I nod. He shakes his head. “What the hell am I gonna do with you? Are you itchin’ for your first spanking? Is that it?”
    I swallow hard at the images that flood my brain with those words. Speaking of flooding . I rub my thighs together as covertly as I’m able. “I told you to wear a skirt, not a band aid,” he chastises me.
    “Well, Sir,” I say again. “You’re the one who told me communication is key in a relationship like ours. Perhaps you should remember that.”
    “Oh, I’ll make a note of it. And no Sir for you,” he says, tapping the end of my nose once with his forefinger.
    “No?” I ask, disappointment evident in my question.
    He doesn’t miss it. “No, and no pouting.” The teasing glint that had played in his eyes since we entered the room flashes from his eyes only to be replaced by a serious look. “When we play?” He cups my jaw in his palm.
    “Mmm, hmm,” I prompt, trying desperately not to lean in and kiss him. Holy shit! I’m so turned on right now.
    “It’s John.” And yet another emotion takes over—vulnerability.
    “John,” I whisper softly. “I like that. I like that a lot.” And just like that, I feel more connected to him than ever.
    “Ah …” he rasps and squeezes his eyes tight. “My name on your lips …” He opens his eyes, and the heat from them threatens to engulf me. “Say it again, baby.”
    I wet my lips and swallow hard. His eyes dart to my mouth. Reaching out, I run my hands over his hair and settle them around his jaw. I cradle his face and pull up slightly, letting him know I want his eyes on mine. Leaning in, I plant a brief, soft kiss on his lips. When I pull back, I whisper his name again, and the look he gives me has everything in me tightening. I’m tensed as if I’m standing on a ledge contemplating a plunge into a deep, unknown ravine. I’m secure, though, in the knowledge that Ransom waits for me at the bottom.
    “No one calls me John, but you. It is yours … I am yours.” Oh. My. God!
    Like he’s prone to do, just when I think I’ve found my footing with him, he throws me for another loop. He takes two steps back, and the flame is back in his eyes. “Denver,” he commands, “take your coat off and lay it on the bed.” All right, here we go. Somehow I know this is probably the easiest thing he’ll demand of me. I take a deep breath and slide the leather from my body. Folding it over once, I lay it on the bed and step back.
    “Mmm … daisies. I approve,” he says of my shirt. I just smile. “Slowly, very slowly,” he drawls, “reach under your skirt and take your panties off.”
    My heart pounds against my ribs like a battering ram. If I take them off, there’s no way I won’t feel completely exposed. My skirt is too short. Ransom reads me just right.
    “You’ll think about that next time you decide to tease me with the length of your skirt, won’t you?” he challenges.
    Resisting an eye roll, I reach under my skirt and hook my thumbs in my panties, slowly sliding them down my legs. I maintain eye contact until I have to focus on pulling them over my boots so