Murder in Pastel by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online

is. Are you okay for normal fucking?” And he reached across and planted his hand on my crotch.
    My own response to that warm insinuating weight took me by surprise—and I felt myself go rigid like a Victorian heroine. I grabbed his wrist. “I appreciate the gesture, but—”
    He twisted his hand, and now it was his fingers grabbing my wrist. “Who are you kidding? You’re so tight I’m surprised you can walk.” He tugged me forward and I half sprawled into his lap. His free hand resumed massaging my swelling crotch through the stiff material of my Levi’s. He was stronger than he looked. And he knew what he was doing.
    I closed my eyes for a moment. Gave in to the idea that this painful throbbing want could be satisfied quickly and secretly. No harm, no foul. We were both adults and this was just sex.
    “Knock it off, Brett,” I said coldly—if belatedly. I pushed his hand off my aching crotch. With my free hand I felt for the crusty surface of the rock, bracing myself up and away. Hard to be dignified and defend your honor at the same time, but I tried.
    “Why? We can both feel how bad you want this.” Brett tried to kiss me. I turned my face and he kissed the corner of my jaw.
    It was kind of funny really, except for how it would look to Adam if he came walking up. The thought of Adam was terrifying and—unnervingly—even more arousing.
    “Relax, Kylie,” Brett whispered, his hand sliding up under my sweatshirt. His cool fingers slid across my chest and found my nipple. Even to my own ears my protest didn’t sound nearly fierce enough. “Let go. I know what you want. Better than you do yourself.” We tussled some more, breathlessly; Brett was laughing softly, his hands everywhere, like Kali making her move.
    “Don’t…” I caught a ragged breath as he pinched my nipple. “Brett, don’t.”
    He said throatily, “It’s too late…” His nails scraped across the hard flat planes of my chest, found my other nipple. Scratched lightly, maddeningly across the tingling nub.
    I felt a wave of relief. Too late. It was going to happen. All I had to do was lie back and let this wave take me out.
    And that would make it pretty much unanimous. Brett would have fucked every guy in the colony—including me. And I didn’t even like him.
    Finally I was mad. I pushed upright and shoved him so hard he fell off his perch.
    “Shit.” He clambered back to his feet. Feeling his forehead, he brought fingers away bloody. “Shit, Kyle. I wasn’t going to rape you.”
    I stared at his red fingers; at the scrape on his forehead. My mouth opened.
    “I’m…sorry,” I managed at last. I couldn’t remember ever drawing blood from anyone before. No schoolyard rumbles for me. No siblings to battle with. A nonviolent childhood. Maybe that was why I took to writing mysteries. A passive-aggressive thing.
    Brett laughed at my expression, leaned in and kissed me again. This time I didn’t object. He tasted smoky-sweet. “Don’t look so scared. It’s not the first time I’ve been beaten up. Adam has a mean left hook.”
    My eyes jerked up to his. “Yeah, right.”
    His expression was enigmatic. “There’s a lot about Adam you don’t know, Kyle.”
    I shrugged.
    He reached out to lightly stroke my face. I turned my head. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
    “I don’t know you.”
    “We can change that anytime you like.”
    The knee-jerk seduction routine was getting old fast. I said irritably, “What, is it like an issue with you? Do you have to make it with every guy you meet?”
    To my surprise he chuckled. “You underestimate yourself, Kylie.”
    There didn’t seem to be a lot to say as we walked back to the bonfire. I could see the beach blanket party had livened up in our absence. Vince and Jen were laughing together at Joel and one of his involved ghost stories. Micky was eating a hot dog. As we shuffled up through the sand, Adam set down his beer bottle.
    “What happened to you?” he asked