Read Online Between Duty and Desire by Leanne Banks - Free Book Online Page A

baddest wolf on the planet and he wanted this Little Red Riding Hood for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
    Squeezing in a breath, he willed his lips to form the word no, all the while looking into her sexy eyes. He glanced at her mouth and felt his libido roar like an overbuilt engine.
    “Go ahead,” he said, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. “Body slam me.”
    Her face lit up and she smiled. “Okay, I’ll try it on your hand.” She poured her shot then grabbed the salt shaker and sprinkled some on the back of his hand. Leaning forward, she lowered her mouth and stuck out her tongue. She started to laugh and backed away. “Sorry,” she said. “This is just one of the most bizarre things I’ve done in a long time.”
    Her laughter was as seductive as everything else about her. Brock was amused and aroused. Unbear ably so.
    She pressed two fingers over her mouth as if to force herself to stop giggling. “I can do this. I want to be able to say I’ve body slammed.”
    Lowering her head again, she leaned forward and slid her tongue over his skin. The sight and sensation of her pink tongue on his flesh tightened every cell inside him. She rubbed her tongue from side to side and he felt his temperature rise with every stroke.
    Damn, she was just licking his hand. What if she’d been licking his…
    She pulled back and a groan escaped his throat. She tossed back the tequila with a grimace and quickly followed by sucking on another slice of lime. “Well, that was interesting,” she said with a smile.
    “I think you’ve had enough,” he said, tossing back one more shot himself.
    “Maybe,” she said. “How many have I—”
    “One clue that you’ve had enough is when you can’t remember how many you drank.”
    She moved her head in a circle. “Are you gonna body slam me?”
    She had no idea how much he wanted to body slam her—and his idea of body slamming had nothing to do with tequila.
    “Fair’s fair,” she said, lifting her hand.
    Unable to resist, he poured another shot and got his lime ready then sprinkled salt on her and lowered his head.
    She started to giggle and the salt fell off. “It tickled.”
    Caught somewhere between agonizing arousal and amusement, he laughed. “Give me your hand,” he said and turned her wrist over. Holding it steady, he sprinkled salt on the inside of her wrist and lowered his mouth to her skin.
    Her soft intake of breath was like an intimate touch. He slid his tongue over the inside of her wrist, savoring the flavor and texture of her skin mixed with the salt. He licked the tiny blue vein beneath her fair skin.
    “Oh, my,” she whispered.
    Reluctantly pulling back, he tossed back the shot and sucked the lime. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and sensual wariness, as if he were some wild animal she should avoid but found fascinating, all the same.
    “That’s some drink. A body slammer. I think I better get a drink of water.” She stood and lifted her hand to her head. “Whew! I feel wobbly.”
    Brock caught her hand and tugged her back onto the couch. “Stay here. I’ll get it.”
    “You had more tequila than I did. How come you aren’t woozy like me?”
    He stood. “Men metabolize alcohol faster than women do.”
    “But you didn’t even eat any cake,” she protested.
    He went into the kitchen and filled two glasses with ice water, then returned. Still standing, he drank his water, hoping it would bring him a little sanity. He was tempted to pour the stuff over his head to cool himself down.
    He felt Callie’s gaze on him as she sipped her water. She patted the cushion beside her. “Would you stay a little longer? I don’t want to be alone yet.”
    He sank down onto the sofa and felt the silence between them.
    “Could I ask a favor of you?”
    “Sure,” he said, knowing there wasn’t much she could ask that he wouldn’t do.
    “Would you hold me for a little while?”
    His heart turned over at the vulnerability in her sweet