The Virgin's Revenge by Dee Tenorio Read Free Book Online Page B

drop her. “My judo instructor has mentioned it a few dozen times.”
    “Judo?” He had just enough time to say the word before she stomped on his foot, rammed her elbow into his ribs and then tossed him out from behind her like a rag doll.
    She was smirking, her arms crossed, before he’d even stopped sliding on the wood floor. “He says I have aggression issues.”
    Cole might have agreed with the teacher if Amanda hadn’t forgotten to make sure her robe was closed. Suddenly, he didn’t have to guess why Billy Anderson had been sprawled on his back and happy as a pig in shit about it. Mile-long legs, golden skin visible everywhere and what looked like a peacock feather licking up from the shadowy space between her slim thighs.
    So much for all those self-admonishing lectures he’d given himself before dropping by this morning. Not to mention all of last night, as he’d kicked his own ass for not telling her the truth right away. Warnings not to let Locke’s edict change how he saw Amanda. Or rather, treated her. He’d learned a long time ago that trying to ignore her beauty or her attractiveness simply wasn’t possible. That was why he’d put all his safeguards in place, so he wouldn’t be tempted to treat her like a woman he could…
    Well, that was the problem in a nutshell. He hadn’t ever figured out what it was exactly he was so tempted to want from her. Friendship? They had that. She seemed to think it was contingent on his relationship with the elder twins for some inexplicable reason, but they had it. In many ways, it was a better friendship than he had with the twins. The boys he could hang out with, do dumb things with and generally not feel any pressure to be anything but what he was. They didn’t care if he tuned them out or called them assholes. They called him worse all the time. But Amanda kept him on his toes. She mocked him ruthlessly when she wanted to, and he was free to return the favor. They had actual conversations, sometimes in other languages. About anything. They could team up and make the other brothers beg for mercy when they felt like it. Or they could just sit and not talk at all.
    But times like this, he knew friendship just didn’t cover what she made him crave.
    Like last night, only somehow impossibly worse, what he wanted was so clear it thundered in his ears as his blood abandoned his brain and shuttled to his cock at a speed worthy of a pneumatic pump.
    Call him a pig and he wouldn’t argue, because he did nothing to stop his gaze from tracing up her smooth belly to the black bra peeking out from under her forearms. By the time he got to her face, the anger was slowly leaching from her expression. Replaced, bit by bit, by what had to be embarrassment.
    Except she wasn’t closing her robe.
    Unfortunately, parts south of his equator were already expressing their approval. Her cool gaze darted from his face to his zipper, brows rising with interest. Not surprise. Interest.
    Dammit!
    He rolled onto his knees, hand on the couch to help himself back to his feet, only he didn’t just grab the couch cushion. Oh no, he couldn’t be that lucky. Instead, his hand tangled into a cloud of silk. Horror dawned as he finally took a look around her living room.
    Bras and panties. Everywhere.
    Every color. Styles that didn’t look like they’d stay on without glue. Lacy, stringy, satiny, God help him, some of them were fluffy . They covered the couch, littered the chair, hung over the back of the free-standing, full-length mirror. Nowhere was safe to look. Or touch. He dropped the handful tangled in his fingers and watched it float down to the couch.
    “Uh…what’s going on in here, Amanda?”
    “This? Oh, I was just getting ready for another unsuspecting delivery man to become my unwilling sex slave. Why do you ask?”
    Unwilling, his ass. If Billy had retained use of his legs, the twerp would be in here right now, begging to lick the dust off her feet.
    He was certainly