Relentless by Cherry Adair Read Free Book Online

for air in a monsoon.She gave back in equal measure, gripping both hands in his hair, pressing against him as she dived right in with verve and enthusiasm.
    Adrenaline surged through him, and he was already hard. Unbuttoning her jacket, Thorne slid one hand inside, cupping the small, heavy weight of her breast. Her nipple was hard through the thin cotton of her T-shirt, and she arched her back to press her breast hard against his fingers. She whimpered as he rubbed his thumb over the hardness, feeling the pucker of the areola through the thin satin of her bra and toying with her nipple. She shifted beside him, her tongue dancing with his, her teeth scoring his lower lip, sucking on it until he thought he’d come right there in the back of the taxi.
    His dick pulsed, and he pulled her across his lap without breaking contact. The vibration of her moan, low in her throat, went through his body like the hum of a tuning fork. Her fingers tightened in his hair. He cupped her arse, pulling her hard against where he needed the pressure. It didn’t help—made it worse, in fact, and more unbearable.
    Combing his fingers through her silky curls, Thorne held her head steady as he invaded her mouth. The taste of her drove him mad. Lemon cookies and cola. Comfort and reprieve. He skimmed his other hand under her T-shirt to the softness of her midriff, just above her jeans. Her skin was like rose petals, cool and impossibly smooth.
    The kiss was wild and bordered on rough. It was the kind of kiss long-term lovers shared, not the touch of two virtual strangers.
    His fingers slid under the thin barrier to find bare skin. Thorne had never in his life been so aroused at the mere touch of a woman’s breast. The feel of her bare skin made him want to strip her naked so he could see all of her. The weight of her breast fit his hand as if made for him. Her sweet breast rose and fell erratically in the cup of his fingers. Thorne was stunned at his visceral reaction to her. Yes, God yes, he was physically attracted to her. He wasn’t made of stone. But there was something more—what the Spanish called la ñapa and the Louisiana French called lagniappe . That little bit extra. She was dangerous to his equilibrium.
    Shivering, she murmured low in her throat, and without stopping the kiss, firmly gripped his wrist and removed his fingers from her breast.
    His chest ached and he realized he’d forgotten to breathe as his hungry mouth devoured hers. Reluctantly he lifted his head, sucking in great drafts of air as she did the same. Skin flushed, her eyes were closed, long dark lashes smudges on her cheeks as she fought to catch her breath.
    He had to put a stop to this, now. In a minute. In an hour. Fuck it, tomorrow.
    Thorne pulled her back again, already missing the slick texture of her mouth and the way her body responded to his touch. Crushing his lips to her, he swept inside and found her tongue waiting there for him. Isis didn’t receive passively; she wasn’t afraid to give as good as she got. Her hand gripped the back of his neck, making him shudder.
    “We’re ’ere, gov. Want me to take another turn around the park?”
    APPARENTLY THAT IMPULSIVE I’m-sorry-your-father-is-a-jerk kiss in the cab had scared off “Just Thorne” because he’d dropped her off at the hotel two hours ago and disappeared.
    Too bad, because Isis wanted—rather desperately—to kiss him again, preferably not in a moving vehicle. She presumed he’d come back eventually. She very much looked forward to locking lips with Thorne again. He was a fabulous kisser.
    The hotel was way too damned expensive, but he’d typically overridden her protests about the unnecessary cost. At this rate, given Lodestone’s exorbitant fee and Thorne’s per diem, her small budget for expenses would be eaten up before they found what she was looking for.
    Dressed in jeans and a pale blue T-shirt, her feet bare, Isis stared out of her hotel window, enjoying the sight of the