RopeMeIn by Cerise DeLand Read Free Book Online

earlobe,
then trace the tip of his tongue down the line of her throat.
    She sagged against the cool mirrored wall.
    He caught her up in his arms, chuckling lightly as he
pressed her backward. “You don’t want to go anywhere without me having you.”
    Her body purred in agreement.
    He gave her a little shake. “Say it.”
    She sank her fingers in his silky midnight hair, lifted one
bare leg around his and thrust her aching pussy at him, surrendering to what
she wanted from him. “I don’t want to go anywhere without you fucking me.”
    “That’s my girl,” he said in gentle triumph and pushed the
robe to the floor. Then stood back.
    Her body had been drawn like a magnet to his. At his
departure, she swayed but caught herself to stand. Dejected that he had left
her, questioning again that he would treat her right, she wanted to scream at
him to get on with it or let her leave. Hell. Like she’d go in this storm?
Not! Like she’d leave without one close adventure of the erotic kind with one
of the renowned MacRae boys? That was crazy talk.
    “Never fear. You will learn to trust me,” he told her as
compensation for the loss of his flesh against hers. “You heard me. Now show me
that sweet body, lady. I need to see every inch before I sink my cock inside.”
    She bit her lower lip, forcing back a whimper of need and
dismay. His robe pooled at her feet. He wasn’t going to remove her lingerie but
wanted a show. The idea sent a hot shiver up her spine and she smiled at him,
agreement and seduction in her move. “Go on, show me,” he whispered when she
paused, his voice a wreck.
    Could he desire her that much? Could he think her that
lovely that his voice would catch? His hands would clench? His breaths would
come in rapid succession?
    He might. He could.
    She knew she had assets. She’d used them, working in Madame
Therese’s in the Rue la Fayette in Paris. She had smiled and urged men to buy
the most outrageously expensive and fabulously seductive lingerie for their
wives, their amours and their mistresses. On more than one occasion, she had
received requests from her gentlemen customers to model the bras and panties
she showed them. On just as many occasions, she had gotten dinner invitations
and yes, even a few to the men’s country estates to don them in a private
showing. Or for a few friends of theirs.
    Never had she been attracted to anything about those
intense, humorless men, except their ability to buy and refer her shop to other
men of similar financial means. None had ever appealed to her physically or
personally like this handsome beguiling man. And his brothers.
    “Come, cherie ,” Jed said to her now, as if he could
read her mind, knew her old desires for a man to sweep her off her feet and
demand she become his. “Let me learn who you are.”
    Then, as if his erection weren’t straining those snug jeans
of his, he strolled over to the chaise longue, toed off his boots, sat back and
clasped his hands behind his head.
    From somewhere high above her, she heard an old symphony her
grandmother had adored. A lilting piece by a Russian composer came to mind
along with the Middle Eastern fable that inspired it. The story featured a
woman who was a concubine in a harem. Hopelessly in love with her master, she
had never had an opportunity to attract him to her until one day when all the
other women in the harem were ill, she was called to dance for him. The piece
spoke of love and longing, and as the harem slave danced, she entranced her
owner.
    Cara knew this was what one part of her yearned to do to Jed
MacRae. Enchant him, if she could. Fascinate him, if she might. And so she
reached behind her, unhooked her bra, let it fall to the floor, then hooked her
thumbs in the top of the frilly bikinis and stepped out of them.
    His mouth fell open, his heavy-lidded gaze rising to her
own. He shifted, twirling a finger in the air to indicate she should turn to
let him view all of her.
    She moved, the years of