The Runaway Daughter by Lauri Robinson Read Free Book Online Page A

just above the waistband of his pants. “What?”
    He dropped the suitcase from his hand and grabbed her shoulders. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
    His skin was hot and moist and devastatingly perfect. “Yes, I do,” she said, forcing him to step backward again, up against the wall. He still had a hold of her shoulders, and could easily push her away, yet he didn’t, and his stomach muscles hardened as she skimmed her fingertips over his skin.
    She could sense his desire as well as some kind of battle going on inside him. Having come this far, Ginger wasn’t about to stop now. Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his. Doubt or fear crossed her mind for a split second, but then he pulled her forward and parted his lips, letting her tongue enter his mouth.
    Exploring the caverns of his mouth was more divine than having him explore hers. Every part of her melted, turning all warm and liquid and perfectly splendid. As he returned her kiss, Brock’s hands ran down her back. The silk of her camisole felt dreamy, warmed by his palm sliding across her skin. His kisses grew more heated and faster, making her tongue race to keep up with his.
    Her heart thudded, her nipples ached at being pressed against his damp chest, and when his hands slid under the waistband of her cami knickers, her breath quickened as a great restlessness surged inside her. She dug her fingertips into his shoulders as his hands cupped the cheeks of her bottom. Then he lifted her in the air, and spun around, pressing her against the wall.
    Ginger wrapped her legs around his hips and leaned back, giving in to her instincts. Brock kissed her chin, and lower, running his tongue right above the lace of her camisole.
    A swirling, intense heat formed near his hands still holding her bottom, and Ginger wasn’t overly certain she could speak, to tell him how wonderful he made her feel.
    His lips found hers again. She felt the rumble in his throat, and matched it with a growl of her own. Brock spun around again and this time carried her to the bed. He forced her legs to release his hips by pulling on her silk shorts, and tugging them all the way to her ankles when she stretched out on the mattress. One by one, he lifted her feet, and then tossed her underwear aside.
    Hot and firm, his hands ran up the sides of her legs. Feeling deliciously wicked and bold, Ginger crossed her arms and lifted the hem of her camisole, laughing at the way Brock lifted both eyebrows.
    “You’re one beautiful doll, Ginger.”
    “I’m glad you think so,” she answered. “I bought this outfit just for you.”
    He grinned. “For me?”
    She pulled the top over her head and dropped it on the floor. “Yes, as soon as I heard you were going to Chicago, I knew you were my escape.”
    His hands stalled on her waist. “Escape?”
    “Yes, from my father. He’s a tyrant who won’t let me do anything but—”
    * * *
    Blood pounded so hard in Brock’s ears he didn’t hear the rest of Ginger’s statement. Other parts of him throbbed, too. She was so seductive, lying there naked before him. He’d never taken the time to explore a woman’s body before sex, but he wanted to with her. He wanted to kiss the swell of her breasts, her flat belly just below her navel and her inner thighs before running his tongue along the very seam of her. However, she’d just reminded him, albeit she hadn’t meant to, that he couldn’t do any of that.
    “Brock?”
    He took a step back, his body shuddering with disappointment and need. “You need to go home, Ginger.”
    “I do not.”
    Desire surged through him again as her breasts thrust forward when she jolted herself upward. “Yes, you do,” he growled.
    “Did you not see the amount of money I brought in last night?”
    Brock groaned, for several reasons.
    She sprang off the bed to land on her feet right before him. Without a hint of embarrassment at being nude, she waggled a finger before his eyes. “You need me,