Freed by Lynetta Halat Read Free Book Online Page A

that I don’t fall over. I right myself, holding the panties in my hand even though I want to toss them at him. I have a feeling that wouldn’t be a very submissive act. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at that image, but he grins anyway, seeing the laughter in my eyes.
    “Good girl,” he praises, holding his palm out.
    I didn’t expect that. “You want them?” I ask, the almost-laughter disappearing from my voice and my face.
    “I do. Put them in my hand.” Shit! I can feel the moisture on them, and I know him. There’s no way he will miss that little detail.
    My eyes dart to his hand as I bunch them and drop the prize onto his palm. He squeezes his hand around them. “Thank you,” he says.
    “You’re welcome, John.” His eyes flare, and he brings my panties to his nose, taking a deep breath. My face heats with embarrassment at the intimate act, and my channel heats anew with yet another gush of wetness. My nails dig into my palms as I try to stand here and appear unaffected.
    “Lace? I approve,” he murmurs, rubbing the fabric with his fingertips. “You’re wet, baby, and you smell incredible.” A moan escapes me, and my head falls back on the door as I watch him fold my little yellow panties into his pocket. “Let’s go party,” he says nonchalantly.
    When I hit the living room following Ransom, I giggle as a dart glances off Gage’s boot and Stephanie apologizes profusely.
    “Woman, pierce the can, not my toe,” he teases. “Drink up, sweetie.”
    Stephanie sips at her beer as the game apparently demands. “I was closer that time. Let me have another go,” she says, collecting the darts and righting the can at Gage’s feet.
    Maggie and I cheer, and on the third try, she pierces the can. Gage lets a whoop and dives down to pull the dart from the can. Putting his mouth to the hole, he shotguns the beer while we cheer him on.
    Ransom slips up behind me, his fingertips grazing the tender skin where skirt meets thigh. I back up toward him, but he moves away quickly to take his turn. I somehow resist pouting again.
    After a few more rounds, during which Austin never misses, the girls and I head into the kitchen to put some snacks out while the guys mix some drinks. I glance up and catch Ransom stroking his pocket while he watches me, a naughty grin on his face.
    We shoot the bull, eat, and end up back in the living room with our drinks. Ransom made mine, so it is alcohol-free. He asked first though, but I followed through on his rule, his reasoning sound on that one.
    I slide down on the couch beside Ransom and very carefully cross my legs so that I don’t flash anyone. Ransom trails one hand up my shin, resting it on my knee. Leaning in, he nips on my ear before whispering, “Uncross your legs, baby.”
    I shoot him a frazzled look. I feel more secure with my legs crossed, damn it.
    “Do it. I’ll keep you safe,” he promises.
    With a little huff, I do and press my legs together tight, ignoring the desire to rub them together. He’s had me primed all night.
    “Oh! I know!” Maggie shouts, drawing me out of my lust-fueled, hazy state. “Let’s play 21 Questions!” A couple of the guys groan, but she squeals and claps her hands, jumping up from her place on the floor to get a pen and paper. “I haven’t ever played, boys. Get over it,” she recommends with a laugh. “And we have seven people. Perfect! OK, everyone write down three questions. Don’t let anyone see them.” She passes out pens and makes quick work of ripping the paper into enough strips.
    She jots down her questions and comes back with an empty Solo cup, collecting the papers with fascination. Ransom tosses his in and gets up to change the music. I’m sure he’s had enough country for the night. When Def Leppard fills the room, I can’t hide my surprise. He just grins and slides back down beside me.
    Shaking the cup, Maggie decides Stephanie should go first since she lost at Beerdarts.
    “OK … how’s