Read Online Coming Attractions by Rosie Vanyon - Free Book Online Page A

to
palm her aching breasts through the flimsy underwear she’d belatedly donned.
Her hands ranged across his back, marveling at the play of muscle beneath her
fingertips. She gasped as his fingers grazed the stiff points of her nipples
through the lace and a shiver rippled through her as he applied a fraction more
pressure to the sensitized tips. She responded in kind, skimming her hands over
his ribs and sliding them over his broad chest, raking them through the
smattering of hair there and scraping her fingernails feather-lightly over his
flat male nubs. He sucked in a sharp breath and hauled her hard against him so
her hands were trapped between them, immobile.
      “I want you,” he told her gruffly, his blazing
eyes making sure she understood just how much, “but not like this.”
    Her breath was ragged, her limbs
unsteady. There seemed to be something wrong with her brain—it was like a snow
globe and her thoughts were the snowflakes. She couldn’t quite grasp hold of a
single one. There was only a veil of raw, desperate, consuming need—need for
Levi—and it just wouldn’t quit.
    “You can have me any way you want
me,” she panted. “But it’s got to be now.” She ended the demand on a note that
bordered on hysterical.
    His nostrils flared and he
swallowed thickly. He hesitated, watching her eyes. He must have seen the intense
need there, for he captured her hand and took off out of the kitchen,
practically dragging her in tow. She didn’t protest, didn’t question, just
blindly followed him as he led her purposefully up the wooden staircase, across
the landing, and down the hallway. The single focus of her consciousness was
consuming Levi—immediately.
    The door handle he reached for was
the entrance to her childhood bedroom. For a moment, she stiffened, and he
reacted immediately to her faltering. He turned, hand on the doorknob,
arranging his face in a concerned question, obviously fighting hard to master
his lust until she saw barely a flicker of impatience beneath his worry. She
let out a shaky breath, smiled tremulously but genuinely, and nodded in
reassurance He gave her one more long, assessing look.
    “It’s okay...” she assured him.
    He saw that it was and opened the
door.
    Her childhood bedroom was
transformed. There was no pink metal bed, no roll-top desk—huh, no floordrobe!
Instead, Levi revealed a starkly erotic geisha fantasy. Parchment-colored walls
and bamboo floors contrasted with a plain bed of dark mahogany. To the left, a
deep red kimono was draped tantalizingly over a rice paper screen. Dusky rose
silk bedding and curtains complemented two pillows of deep fuchsia velvet and a
single stem of cherry blossom in a simple glass vase. The only other ornament
was an enormous oriental-style print over the bed. The image was stylized but
graphic, depicting a man and a woman entwined,
in flagrante delicto
.
    Both Levi and Cara paused on the
threshold of the room, taking in the setting he had chosen for their
lovemaking. There was breath, there were heartbeats, there was need—and they
were all quickening. He couldn’t know, she thought, that this room had once
been hers, that the walls had harbored her childhood dreams and her teenage
fantasies... Or perhaps, at some level, he did know. Maybe on some primal
plane, he picked up the vibrations of her past, sensed the yearnings of her
younger, flowering self.
    In the doorway, Levi held her hand
tightly and she was glad of the contact. A little of her earlier rashness had
ebbed as echoes of the past wrapped themselves around her and the reality of
what they were about to do seeped into her consciousness.
    Cara looked up at Levi, took in the
strong set of his jaw, the rumpled tumble of his hair, the glitter of famine in
his eyes. She fanned her gaze over the breadth of his shoulders, the swell of
his biceps, the planes of his chest. He was the perfect male specimen, she
thought. And there was no question the chemistry was seething between