Not My Type by Chrystal Vaughan Read Free Book Online

these
circumstances, she was confident and graceful, like a dancer moving
around among her bowls and utensils, or like an artist creating a
masterpiece on a canvas made of food. The only other time she moved
like that was in bed, in his arms.
    They ate in the formal dining room by
candlelight, recreating some of the magic of their engagement night
that was so rudely interrupted by her body's faulty chemistry. They
drank water instead of wine but the food was delicious and they
enjoyed talking about everything except her health problems. Joe
talked a little about the gym, asking her opinion of whether or not
a female trainer should be brought in. "Has anyone asked for a
female trainer? I can't imagine any of the women that come there to
exercise are there for the treadmills alone," she laughed. "You and
the other guys are as much of a draw to ToneUp as the actual
workout, probably more."
    "Are you saying I'm on display like a
hunk of meat? How sexist."
    "Sex something. I'm saying exactly
that you are a hunk. With meat."
    "You have a dirty mind, you know
that?"
    "It's one of my best qualities. What
do you say we discuss this in detail in the bedroom?"
    "Are you seducing me, future Mrs.
Malone?"
    "Do I have to seduce you, Mr.
Malone?"
    "Hell, no. I'll race you."
    She beat him to the bedroom, but only
because he liked the view from behind.

Chapter Seven: Work It
Out
    Elsa was awakened the next morning by
a tickling sensation on the backs of her legs and ass. She squirmed
to get away from it, but the feeling persisted. She finally groaned
and rolled onto her back, only to open her eyes and see intense
brown ones staring back at her. She closed hers quickly, then
squinted one eye up at Joe hovering over her. "Didn't get enough
last night, big guy?"
    "Never enough with you," he breathed.
Her heart started racing and that familiar but welcome ache spread
through her body. Though she badly needed a shower and to brush her
teeth, she reached up and touched his face with her fingers,
tracing his strong jaw line and running her thumb across his full
sensuous lips before they descended upon hers. He threaded his
hands through her hair and settled over the top of her, holding her
effectively in place while his tongue ravaged her mouth. She felt
the force of his need between her legs, and his usually gentle kiss
was bruising. She sensed something was wrong but opened to him,
hoping to assuage whatever was bothering him. She knew she was in
for rough treatment when he jammed himself inside of her without
any foreplay or warning, her flesh tearing slightly as he buried
himself to the hilt. She gasped into his mouth and his fingers
tightened in her hair. Rising above her, he pulled himself out and
crashed back in hard; her hands came up to force him back some, to
ease the pressure, but he pulled his hands from her hair and
grabbed her wrists, forcing them to the mattress while he continued
his pummeling. She gave up struggling and gave herself over to him.
"Mine," he growled above her, his breath coming in harsh
bursts.
    "Yes," she whispered but Joe didn't
hear her. He was intent on his task, bruising her thighs with the
force of his lust. She stayed with him, not crying out until an
unexpected orgasm burst over her. She arched her back against him
and he finally stopped pounding her, pouring his own orgasm into
her body, his own back arched as he came. He lay heavily on her for
long moments, exhausted by emotion rather than effort. He released
her hands and she traced endless patterns on his strong back with
her fingers, feeling the ridges of muscle and the pearls of his
spine, loving him and his body with all of her being. She finally
whispered in his ear. "What was that about?"
    He rolled off of her onto his back and
covered his eyes with one arm, pulling her to his side with the
other. His voice was quiet and raspy. "Did I hurt you?"
    "No matter what, Joe Malone, you never
hurt me even when you're being rough. It's like you always know,