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

features. “Sure,” he said and pulled her into his arms. Her body was soft and pliable. She relaxed against him as if she had no idea how much he wanted to undress her and make love to her. She stuck her face against his throat and inhaled deeply then lifted her hands to his shoulders. Her hair felt like silk beneath his chin. His heart hammered in his chest while her breaths evened out and she drifted off to sleep.
     

    Hours later, the low sound of a motor awakened him. Brock opened his eyes, immediately aware that Callie was spread over him like a blanket. Something gray moved beside him and he turned his head to see the cat. The cat, whose whiskers were covered in white frosting, stared at him unblinkingly and purred.
    Brock shifted slightly, but Callie continued to sleep. He shifted again and, when she didn’t move, he thought about putting a mirror under her nose to make sure she was breathing. The tequila must have delivered a knockout punch.
    His body groaned in protest at the crumpled position he’d been in for the last several hours. He had an ugly suspicion his body was going to exact a heavy punishment. Grimacing, he carefully slid Callie off of him and onto another cushion on the couch. She stirred, but continued to sleep.
    Rising from the couch, he stretched and felt pain shoot through his back and leg. His head throbbed. Yep, he probably shouldn’t have downed that last shot of tequila. He took the remainder of the cake sitting on the table and tossed it in the trash in the kitchen. Returning to the den, he looked at Callie and felt his chest tighten. Her hair spilled over the dark upholstery, looking like wildfire. Her rosebud lips were slightly parted.
    Lord, how he wanted her.
    But he couldn’t have her.
    Heaving a sigh, he went to the sofa and carefully picked her up and carried her toward the back of the house, where he suspected her bedroom was.
    “What are you doing?” she asked as he stepped through the doorway.
    “Putting you to bed.”
    “What time is it?”
    “Very late or very early, depending on your perspective,” he said.
    “My head feels like the hunchback of Notre Dame is ringing cathedral bells inside it.”
    “Yeah, I feel like crap, too.”
    “I feel dizzy when I open my eyes.”
    “Then keep them closed,” he told her, and lowered her onto her bed. “I’m going to bring a glass of water and some aspirin and put it on your bedside table.”
    “Why?”
    “If I don’t, you may kill me in the morning,” he muttered, and collected the items. He returned to the bedroom to find her under the sheet and tossing articles of her clothing on the floor. Her shirt flew through the air, followed by her bra and shorts.
    His temperature climbed several degrees as his mind stripped down the covers to her bed and he found her naked, warm and waiting. Inviting.
    “You can sleep on the sofa if you think you shouldn’t be driving,” she said.
    Not exactly the invitation his libido had been wishing for. “That’s okay. I’m gonna walk home.”
    Her eyes still closed, she frowned. “It’s too late for that.”
    “Nah, the fresh air will do me good.” Hopefully it would get his brain out of his shorts.
    She sighed.
    “Sit up just a little,” he coaxed.
    “I don’t want to take anything. I’m too sleepy.”
    “You don’t even have to open your eyes,” he told her and she lifted her head slightly.
    He touched her bottom lip and when she opened her mouth, he placed the aspirin on her tongue. He held the glass of water to her lips and she swallowed. After repeating the process, he lowered her head to the pillow. “Thanks, Brock. Did you know you taste a lot better than tequila?” she asked, tossing her panties over the edge of the bed and rolling onto her side.
    Brock rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. …you taste a lot better than tequila. In any other situation, he would be in that bed and on her in three seconds flat. But not in this situation, he told himself.