Read Online Getting It Right! by Rhonda Nelson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rhonda Nelson
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sake of a ring on their finger. She’d bought her own damnedring, thank you very much, and it sparkled just as much—if not more—because of it.
No doubt she was worrying about it for nothing. Just because Ben had seemed curious about her feelings for him, for all she knew, he could have been merely feeling her out to avoid a sticky entanglement once she got her orgasm back. A patient rarely saw a doctor after the cure, right? Once things were back to normal, unless they were both interested in pursuing the relationship, there’d be no cause to continue. For whatever reason, she found the idea wholly depressing.
April found a parking place as close to pier eighteen as she could, then shifted into park and tried to shake off her heavy thoughts. She was borrowing trouble, dammit. For the next week all she wanted to think about was letting Ben whisper her back from the brink of sexual extinction. She wanted to exercise Rule Number One herself—put him at her beck and call—and finally, blessedly, have sex with the one guy in the world she’d always wanted to have in her bed.
God, how many times had she fantasized about this? About him? About what it would be like to feel that hard body buried deep within hers? Thathot mouth feeding at her breasts, then between her legs?
Smooth warm skin, hard muscles, the slide of his talented hand over her thigh. Ben, naked and needy and hers.
April let out a shuddering breath as her nipples pearled beneath her dress. That woeful buzz pinged her sex once more, causing her belly to clench with awareness.
And why in the hell was she sitting out here fantasizing about Ben when the genuine article was waiting for her? Sheesh. Irritated, April vaulted from the car. Now that was hardly graceful. With her luck, he was probably watching her again. She needed professional help. She really did.
Muttering angrily under her breath, she followed the walk down to pier eighteen, then started to look for Ben.
She didn’t have to look far…and her anger swiftly turned to astonishment.
Smiling—evidently he had witnessed her graceless exit from the car—Ben stood on the deck of a sailboat. He wore a pair of khaki slacks and a navy-blue cable-knit sweater. He held a couple of empty champagne glasses loosely in onehand. The afternoon breeze ruffled the ends of his dark hair, and though he was hardly dressed the part, she was strongly reminded of a pirate. A quick glance at the name of the boat— Shutterbug —told her that it was his.
Astounded, April grinned up at him. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
He eyed her up and down, slowly, thoroughly, until she felt the tops of her thighs warm beneath that intense, slumberous scrutiny. Evidently her little black dress passed muster because she had the privilege of watching those light brown eyes darken into a smoky bedroom hue…a silent invitation to sin. “Permission granted,” he said. “Come aboard.”
Oy. Would that she could be so lucky.
5
B EN SET ASIDE the champagne flutes he’d been holding and offered April a hand up. The instant her palm connected with his, he felt an odd, warm tingling start in his fingers and, eventually, infect his whole body. No matter how many times he touched her—no matter how casual or innocent the contact—he still felt as if he’d been dunked in champagne. It was an altogether unnerving experience, one he equally craved and dreaded.
A smile curling her lush mouth, April climbed aboard and shot him a look that confirmed she’d enjoyed the mystery of Rule Number One as much as he’d thought she would. Those clear green eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation, and realizing he took credit for them made his chest inflate with a ridiculous amount of pride.
Now would be a good time to say something smooth and romantic—something fantasy worthy—yet Ben found himself unable to do either. Instead, he simply stared at her.
She’d uh…She’d definitely taken the “sexy” order to
No doubt she was worrying about it for nothing. Just because Ben had seemed curious about her feelings for him, for all she knew, he could have been merely feeling her out to avoid a sticky entanglement once she got her orgasm back. A patient rarely saw a doctor after the cure, right? Once things were back to normal, unless they were both interested in pursuing the relationship, there’d be no cause to continue. For whatever reason, she found the idea wholly depressing.
April found a parking place as close to pier eighteen as she could, then shifted into park and tried to shake off her heavy thoughts. She was borrowing trouble, dammit. For the next week all she wanted to think about was letting Ben whisper her back from the brink of sexual extinction. She wanted to exercise Rule Number One herself—put him at her beck and call—and finally, blessedly, have sex with the one guy in the world she’d always wanted to have in her bed.
God, how many times had she fantasized about this? About him? About what it would be like to feel that hard body buried deep within hers? Thathot mouth feeding at her breasts, then between her legs?
Smooth warm skin, hard muscles, the slide of his talented hand over her thigh. Ben, naked and needy and hers.
April let out a shuddering breath as her nipples pearled beneath her dress. That woeful buzz pinged her sex once more, causing her belly to clench with awareness.
And why in the hell was she sitting out here fantasizing about Ben when the genuine article was waiting for her? Sheesh. Irritated, April vaulted from the car. Now that was hardly graceful. With her luck, he was probably watching her again. She needed professional help. She really did.
Muttering angrily under her breath, she followed the walk down to pier eighteen, then started to look for Ben.
She didn’t have to look far…and her anger swiftly turned to astonishment.
Smiling—evidently he had witnessed her graceless exit from the car—Ben stood on the deck of a sailboat. He wore a pair of khaki slacks and a navy-blue cable-knit sweater. He held a couple of empty champagne glasses loosely in onehand. The afternoon breeze ruffled the ends of his dark hair, and though he was hardly dressed the part, she was strongly reminded of a pirate. A quick glance at the name of the boat— Shutterbug —told her that it was his.
Astounded, April grinned up at him. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?”
He eyed her up and down, slowly, thoroughly, until she felt the tops of her thighs warm beneath that intense, slumberous scrutiny. Evidently her little black dress passed muster because she had the privilege of watching those light brown eyes darken into a smoky bedroom hue…a silent invitation to sin. “Permission granted,” he said. “Come aboard.”
Oy. Would that she could be so lucky.
5
B EN SET ASIDE the champagne flutes he’d been holding and offered April a hand up. The instant her palm connected with his, he felt an odd, warm tingling start in his fingers and, eventually, infect his whole body. No matter how many times he touched her—no matter how casual or innocent the contact—he still felt as if he’d been dunked in champagne. It was an altogether unnerving experience, one he equally craved and dreaded.
A smile curling her lush mouth, April climbed aboard and shot him a look that confirmed she’d enjoyed the mystery of Rule Number One as much as he’d thought she would. Those clear green eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation, and realizing he took credit for them made his chest inflate with a ridiculous amount of pride.
Now would be a good time to say something smooth and romantic—something fantasy worthy—yet Ben found himself unable to do either. Instead, he simply stared at her.
She’d uh…She’d definitely taken the “sexy” order to
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