Prima Donna by Laura Drewry Read Free Book Online Page A

minute left on the clock.
    She couldn’t honestly say she was surprised when the knock sounded on her door. She didn’t expect it, hadn’t hoped for it, and yet she didn’t have to look through the peephole or ask who was there.
    She already knew.
    She also knew she’d let him in because if there was one thing she wanted right then, it was a good long distraction.

Chapter Three
“It’s not my fault!”
    Han Solo,
The Empire Strikes Back
    Regan stood in the open doorway as the TV counted down the final seconds of the old year. Carter didn’t say a word; he didn’t even move until the party horns blared, the fireworks blasted, and Regan took a step back. With his dark eyes fixed on hers and a slow grin pulling at his lips, he moved toward her, filling her space, crowding her until she backed into the wall.
    God, he smelled good.
    “How come you left?” he asked, his voice low.
    “Reason number three.” She clutched the pillow against her stomach, wrapping her arms around it so tight she could feel her own ribs beneath. “I always do New Year’s at home.”
    “Right. I forgot there was a reason number three.” He pressed his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head, his long, leisurely gaze taking in every inch of her face, her hair, her neck, before it gradually settled on her lips. “But we’re both here now, so can we cross that one off the list?”
    “I, uh, I suppose.”
    He hadn’t even touched her and still she shivered. Oh, who was she kidding—that wasn’t just a shiver, it was a full-body shake that took hold of her lazy-ass libido and Tasered it to attention.
    Ho. Lee. Crap.
    “And if I’m remembering this right, reason number one had something to do with a polo-shirt-wearing jock who was on the hunt for a wife. Can I cross that one off the list, too?”
    “Definitely.” A couple hard blinks later, Regan mirrored his cocky little grin.
    “So that just leaves reason number two.” His mouth twitched slightly, his eyes crinkled at the edges. “Something about locking body parts…”
    “No body parts,” she corrected slowly. “You said lips o—”
    Carter caught her bottom lip between his, waited until her words faded to nothing, then kissed her; soft, gentle, and oh-so-freakin’ slow. He kept his hands flat against the wall, his body close—very close—but never touching. Warmth built to a heated flicker, and then to full-on ignition that rocked Regan off balance. She curled her toes against the floor and fisted her hands deeper into the cushion, but it didn’t help, and when Carter finally slanted his mouth over hers, strong, hard, taking the kiss deeper, it was all she could do not to slide down the wall into a puddle.
    She tried to catch the sigh before it vibrated out of her throat, but her traitorous body wouldn’t respond; not to her, anyway. It had
no
trouble responding to him, to the warmth of his hands, so close to her neck, and to the promise of what he would do if only he’d touch her.
    What the hell was he waiting for? Didn’t he…oh, right. He wasn’t going to touch her, just kiss her, except there was nothing “just” about this kiss, especially when he slid his tongue slowly across her bottom lip like that, teasing and tormenting her with a taste of—
    Wait. What? Was he pulling away? Oh, no no no.
    Regan dropped the cushion and arched off the wall, leaving her without any support, teetering on wobbly legs, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t done yet. Carter backed up, his hands raised in the air, keeping a whisper of space between them, but he didn’t stop kissing her.
    Every stroke, every breath, made it more and more difficult to keep her balance, especially when he smiled against her lips, daring her to take control. But Regan wasn’t in control; she knew it before she wrapped both hands around the thin strip of leather around his neck and leaned deeper into his kiss, and she knew it long before she fell back against the wall, dragging him