Stirred by Nancy S Thompson Read Free Book Online Page A

moved through the bar, bestowing farewells to a long line of friends at a table in the center. Hugs were exchanged, as were disappointed looks and what appeared to be words of chastisement that made her apologize again and again. She blew final kisses as one of the women stood and locked arms with her, slowly walking her through the crowded bar, chatting non-stop and oblivious to the turmoil written all over Eden’s face.
    “There,” I directed Trinitee with a nod. “Not the chatty, dirty blonde. The one with the dark reddish-brown hair.”
    Trinitee surveyed the crowd, her eyes halting on the object of my fascination. She smiled, seemingly satisfied, and, with an oddly deep breath, shook her head.
    “ Another redhead?” she snickered. “Christ, you’re so predictable, Sean. That’s like, what, five in the last two years? Not including Hay—”
    “Trin,” I warned, my tone dead serious.
    “Sorry,” she said, but kept rolling right along, nodding toward the woman from the restroom. “That one though…she’s a little…old, don’t you think?” She turned and peered at me, and while I kept my attention on the woman, I could feel Trinitiee’s eyes boring into the side of my face. “Oh my God, look at you,” she added before passing a hand in front of my face. “Helloooo? Earth to Sean?” She snapped her fingers.
    I chuckled and dropped my gaze, first to the table, then to her. “You’re just jealous. Admit it. You want all this to yourself,” I joked, presenting myself like a gameshow prize.
    “Ha!” she chirped with her head thrown back. “I’d rather have the dirty blonde.”
    I barked a loud, raucous laugh and clapped my hands as I turned to smile at Trinitee. But my attention was instead captured by the woman, who’d heard me and stopped dead in her tracks near the front entry. Her lips slightly parted, she stared at me while a bright flush crept from her chest to her hairline. My amusement faded as we locked eyes and the crowd seemed to quiet and fade away. With a slight nod, I offered her a knowing smile. I looked her up and down, my attention seizing on her face and those fiercely sharp, green eyes of hers.
    Trinitee tried, but she couldn’t break our connection. She was whispering something in my ear, but all I could hear were muted sounds, like adults in a Charlie Brown TV special. Undeterred, Trinitee rested her chin atop my shoulder and wrapped her arms around my neck. The redhead tore her gaze from mine and settled instead on Trinitee, and I could’ve sworn I saw a flash of something, a storm in her eyes, like jealously almost, aggravation, until her friend pulled her along, and, with one last intense glance at me, swept her through the front doors and out onto the street.
    With a satisfied laugh, Trinitee sat up straight and scooted away, placing more than a foot of personal space between us. “That was fun,” she said with a clap of her hands.
    I gave her a shove. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
    “What? I’m just trying to make you appear more…desirable, get under her skin a little, rile up her possessive side. All women have one, you know,” she said then snatched the glossy black card from my hand. “What’s this?” She paused as she read over it. “ Eden MacLaird, author of dark erotic romance . Hmm, mommy porn,” she added as she turned the card over and examined the book cover on the opposite side. “Jesus, ever since erotica came into fashion, every other book released has a naked dude on the cover, not to mention content that’s progressively titillating ,” she said using air quotes. “That’s a euphemism for tawdry, by the way.” She snickered with a shake of her head. “And Joust ?” she added as her thumb ran over the book title. “Is that some sort of phallic reference? Shit, if sexually frustrated housewives are so hard up for provocative literature, maybe they should try the classics, like Tropic of Cancer or Lolita . Geez, even The Perks of