Run the Risk by Lori Foster Read Free Book Online Page B

was an obvious hint for him to go,
but at the same time, she had that image of him standing there, at the foot of
her unmade bed. Tall, bare-chested, sexy as sin…
    His hands settled on her shoulders; his scent settled around
her.
    And before he said a single word, she knew she was a goner.
    * * *
    L OGAN IGNORED the not-so-subtle suggestion for him to hit the road,
especially since her voice had gone all thin and high. She was nervous, he got
that.
    Why, he didn’t yet know.
    But he had her in a bedroom, in the near-dark, and with every
fiber of his being, he was aware of her as a woman.
    Not of his plan to get hold of her brother. Not of how she
could assist him in his goal to obtain justice.
    Just… her.
    The way she trembled, the scent of her damp skin, her
arousal.
    They stood in the shadows while lightning flashed outside and
occasional thunder rattled the windows.
    Holding her shoulders, he drew her back into his chest and bent
to inhale the heady fragrance of her damp skin. “I don’t want to leave you alone
in this storm.”
    The silence grew taut, and he knew she warred with herself,
with what she wanted—and probably her damned brother’s rules.
    Finally she whispered, “I’ll be fine.”
    “You want me to stay.” And knowing that, he went about
convincing her, putting soft love bites on her throat, teasing her ear with his
breath and his tongue, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close enough
that she felt his erection against her soft ass.
    “Logan…”
    “Your shirt is wet,” he told her and boldly smoothed a hand up
and over her breast. The restrictive bra confounded him. It couldn’t be
comfortable.
    “Don’t.” She caught his wrist and drew his hand down to her
waist, but she didn’t step away from him.
    “Okay.” He pressed his hand lower, to her belly, and asked, “Is
this better?”
    She shocked him by nodding.
    Need held him in a powerful grip; he pressed his hand lower,
between her thighs, cupping her through the long skirt and insubstantial
underwear.
    They both breathed harder.
    She parted her thighs.
    Amazing. So this was okay, but her breasts were off-limits?
Prodded by concern, by the idea that she could be scarred, or worse, he asked,
“Why, honey?”
    Pressing back against him, she put her hand over his,
encouraging him to continue while muttering low, “No questions.”
    Not being a fool, Logan agreed. When he got her in bed, he’d
get her naked, and then he’d figure it out on his own. He’d reassure her and let
her know whatever it was, it didn’t matter, not between them.
    She flattened her hands on his thighs, and her nails dug into
him. He heard the catch in her breathing, savored the heat of her, how she moved
against his exploring fingers.
    For the longest time they stood there like that, in the dark
with the storm all around them, damp, hot, necking and petting. He grinned
against her shoulder. “I haven’t done this since high school.”
    It took a little while before she asked, “This?”
    “Making out. Fooling around with my clothes on.” He pressed his
hard-on against her. “Getting so frustrated, I almost can’t take it.”
    She groaned—and started to step away.
    Logan turned them both instead and brought her down to the bed.
He sprawled out over her, kissing her hard, deep, hoping to obliterate any
objections.
    She had none.
    Of her own accord she parted her legs so that he fit between
them. Her hands tangled in his hair, and she held him close while he kissed
her.
    When he again reached for her breast—dying to see her, to touch
her—she stalled. “Wait.”
    Of course he did. Balanced over her, edgy with need, their
breaths mingling, he…waited.
    Her body beneath his was an indistinct form, but he felt her
urgency, the way she stared at him, and her indecision.
    Her hands kneaded his chest. “If we’re going to do this—”
    “I hope we are.”
    “—then I need the curtains closed.”
    Even though it was black as pitch