Lipstick on His Collar by Inez Kelley Read Free Book Online Page B

baritone was a thread of hurt that jabbed at her like a knife. “I want to know why you left, why you won’t tell me your name, and why me? If all you wanted was a quick screw, there were men all over that damn fair. Why me, lady?”
    “I don’t know.” She palmed her forehead and sighed. “Yes, I do. You weren’t a redneck. Your shirt was Egyptian cotton, not J.C. Penney’s. You had on tailored dress pants and Italian loafers but you didn’t reek of spoiled little rich boy. You stuck out like a sore thumb yet you were comfortable enough with who you are not to care. You didn’t try some lame pickup line or… I liked you, okay? Isn’t that enough?”
    “Maybe. And I like nice clothes for work.”
    “And scruffy Cleveland Browns sweatshirts and faded Levi’s in your off-time.”
    “You’re changing the subject.”
    “We agreed on one night,” she reminded.
    “Things changed. At least, they did for me. I thought…we found something that night, something I lost when I woke up alone.”
    She pushed off the ledge, bounding before him like an overeager puppy, all bare feet and jittery bones. The pounding beat in her throat almost choked her, but she swallowed it down. She wanted, she needed him to understand her regrets. She would undo that morning if she could. She’d made it halfway home, jumpy and tense, only to turn around, driving back to a hole-in-the-wall motel that held exactly what she’d been looking for. But she was too late and he’d checked out hours earlier.
    “It wasn’t you, Bram. It was me. I messed up. You made me feel too much. You listened. You talked to me. You cared. I got scared. I ran, and when I realized I’d made a mistake, it was too late. You were gone.” She stepped close to wrap her arms around his shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. “But we’re here now and I’m not running. Will you forgive me? For everything?”
    Large, powerful and rough-skinned, his hands framed her face with a gentle touch, spiraling a jagged awareness through her. With one touch, he brought all those feelings of tenderness and promise back. Oh, I’m in major trouble here. Falling in love with Bram would be far too easy .
    “Will you tell me your name?”
    It sat on her tongue but she held it. The lure of still being his anonymous lover thrilled her with a secret wickedness. She pressed her breasts closer to his chest. “No…but if you guess it, I’ll admit it.”
    His mouth quivered with a hidden smile. “What else do I get if I guess right?”
    “What else do you want?”
    He dropped his head to nibble at her jaw and devilish want dropped his tone to a husky, hungry level. “You, on your knees, in front of me, your lips around my cock.”
    Bram didn’t talk dirty until he was excited and then he melted her bones with deliciously naughty words. A lusty memory swelled like an ocean wave, tinged with the brazen light of erotic play.

    Sometime during that July night, the rain had stopped. Outside the motel window, a slow steady dripdripdrip from a leaky gutter could be heard. Occasionally a vehicle sped through a puddle with a splash. Her knees straddled his hips. She smoothed slow strokes up his spine then slid her hands around his shoulders. Her hair swung low across his cheek, the air thick with the scent of sex.
    “So is Bram short for Abraham?”
    “Nope. Just Bram.”
    “I like it. Short, powerful, masculine.” She’d accented each word with a nibble along his neck.
    “I’ll show you masculine.” He rolled beneath her, grabbed her around the waist and nuzzled her throat with a playful snarl. Her squealing laughter bounced off the walls loud enough to wake the guests next door had there been any. She rocked a moist cradle against his hardening cock, purring into his touch. Play turned erotic when he lifted her above him, settling her knees on the pillows. Large warm hands supported her ass, cupping it and holding her in place.
    “Christ, I love that you’re bare. Your pussy