Wyne and Song by Donna Michaels Read Free Book Online

lose his restraint…along with their clothes. For now, he grabbed his bag and followed her into the hall.
    After the door shut behind them, she picked up the pace, tugging him past the elevator toward the only other door on the floor. Her accelerated steps struck a chord deep inside, and he gave into the sexual need tearing him from the inside out.
    Dropping his bag, he swung her around, and when she gasped, he captured her startled breath in a kiss he’d waited much too long to taste. Sweet, hot, and damned addicting, she tasted better than he’d remembered. With a growl, he pressed her against the wall, lost in the feel of her lips moving under his, fueling the fire already consuming his body.
    Things went a little crazy then. She moaned and thrust her hands into his hair, holding his head as her soft, hungry lips ravaged without apology, her tongue brushing his, over and over in a wild frenzy of pure need.
    Damn . It’d been so long. So damn long since he’d been kissed like this. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a woman want him more than air. To be kissed like he mattered, like nothing was more important than him at that moment.
    He needed to be insider her. Now.
    But she suddenly stiffened, and pulled that incredible mouth from his. “W-wait…” she panted. “Cameras.”
    That cleared some of the fog from his brain, and allowed their location to register. Still in the hall between penthouses. Dammit .
    “Come on.” She rushed to her door. “I don’t have any in the penthouse.”
    Grabbing his bag, he followed her inside, and when she shut the door and flicked on the lights, his mind noted modern furnishing in a layout similar to Lea’s, but he was fixated on the red flag waving in his head.
    Her door had been unlocked.
    Despite the need still gripping his body tight, he had to voice his concern. “Phoebe, tell me you don’t always leave your door open.”
    She removed her necklace and earrings and set them on a nearby credenza. “Nobody really locks them in this building. Even Lea. It’s very secure.”
    Jesus . He clenched his jaw against the concern flooding his body, dropped his bag and stepped toward her. “But not everyone is a famous Broadway star whose initial is tattooed on a stalker’s chest.”
    Her mouth opened, and he could read the denial in her gaze, but she surprised him, once again, when she blew out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. But, only Lea and I have a key to this floor. And, well, my mom, agent, Ben, and management. But that’s it.” She said it as if that made it okay.
    Hell no. By his estimation that was three too many, and he would’ve told her, except she sauntered closer, and the sensual sway of her hips reignited the desire simmering inside. Stopping in front of him, she slid her hands up his chest, and her gaze…God, her gaze, so warm and accepting...
    “Now,” she said, her lips curving into a wicked grin. “Where were we, my handsome worrier?”
    He pulled her closer, letting his hands skim over her sweet body while he leaned in to brush his lips down her neck. “Anyone ever tell you you’re too trusting?”
    She trembled against him as she laughed softly. “Anyone ever tell you you’re untrusting?”
    Smiling, he kissed a path up her throat and down her jaw. “Yes,” he replied, his abs quivering under the scrape of her fingers unbuttoning his shirt.
    “Ditto,” she replied, her touch soft and shaky while she pushed the opened material off his shoulders.
    He released her and stepped back, his shirt hitting the floor a second before his tongue, as he watched the beauty free her arms and let the dress fall around her feet. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her standing in a black, lacy bra and tiny matching panties.
    And, hot damn, those sexy do-me heels.
    She was a vision. A goddess. An erotic fantasy he’d carry with him for years. “You’re so beautiful, Phoebe.” 
    Soft, wavy hair cascading down her back, dark gaze