Hot as Hell (The Deep Six) by Julie Ann Walker Read Free Book Online

the occasional sprinkling of freckles—on her shoulders, across her pert nose—she was everything a man could want. Lush and lovely. Wild and womanly. Delicious.
    But she had requested he put himself inside her. And who was he to argue?
    Grabbing the base of his dick, he angled himself toward her swollen, pink entrance, then hesitated when he realized he’d almost forgotten about protection. With a curse of frustration, he bent to shove a hand into the hip pocket of his pants that were bunched around his ankles. Finding a condom among her wadded up panties and the two spent shells that had somehow wormed their way into his fatigues during the battle—the fog of war was a weird thing, and even weirder things tended to happen when a guy was in the middle of it—he straightened and ripped the foil packet open with his teeth.
    A line appeared between Harper’s brows. “Were you…” she licked her lips, pressing up on her elbows. The move caused her lovely breasts to bounce ever so slightly. “Were you plannin’ this?”
    “Always,” he told her. Then barked out a laugh when her piquant little chin jerked back. “No,” he relented. “We use condoms to keep sand out of the barrels of our M4s. But I think you and I have found a better use for this one.”
    “Oh, yes,” she sighed, her shoulders relaxing. Then her gaze drifted down his body, zeroing in on the painfully swollen, angrily red length of him as he rolled on the condom. “Mmm,” she murmured, scooting her plump ass to the very edge of the table. “Hurry,Michael.”
    And by God, she didn’t need to tell him twice. He finished with the condom and stepped between her legs, using his thumb to bend himself down to her. Then, fascinated, he watched his swollen head press between her folds, press into her body, stretching her, filling her inch by excruciatingly slow inch.
    And just as it had the first time, every pleasurable sensation he’d ever experienced before was instantly forgotten. Because nothing could compare to Harper’s soft, silky walls closing around him.
    “Don’t stop,” she begged. And there was no way he was going to. Not unless he wanted to walk funny for the next ten years…

CHAPTER 4
    “Oh, God,” Michael groaned when Harper hooked her heels behind his ass, jerking him forward and seating him that last inch. She was stretched to capacity but not so much that she couldn’t squeeze him, loving the way her nerve endings zinged with approval. “Do it again, angel. Just…” He pulled out the tiniest bit before pressing home again. “Squeeze me like… Yeah. Just likethat.”
    He bent to reclaim her mouth, not moving one more inch save for the languid thrust and retreat of his tongue past her teeth. Its cadence matched the pulse of his blood, the pulse of him held so securely inside her.
    And that was something she’d learned the night of the party. That Michael liked to savor the first moments of joining, revel in the simple act of being buried inside her and feeling her muscles contract around him as he throbbed and ached and grew harder still. She liked it, too. Because in her very limited experience, most men tended to go straight into jackhammer mode. And that was a crying shame, because this moment was…
    Decadent.
    There was no other word for it.
    Skimming her hands beneath the halves of his shirt, she relished the sleek feel of his back under her fingertips. Except for where a scar marred its perfection, his skin was smooth as Tennessee whiskey, hot as an oven, and hard as stone. In a word, he was man.
    And she? Well, she was woman.
    “Now, Michael,” she demanded against his mouth. “Make love to me now.”
    She felt his lips curve into a smile, his beard rasping against her cheeks. “Your wish is my command,” he said, and then? Oh, and then he began to move. In the way that only Michael could move. With a gentle force that was the epitome of coordination, dexterity, and the deep understanding of how a woman’s