Read Online Guns and Roses by Sylvia Day, Allison Brennan, Lori G. Armstrong - Free Book Online Page B

to body. “Getting there.” He kissed her cheek and worked his mouth to her ear, his lungs still producing blissfully warm breath.
    “My toes are frozen and yours must be frostbitten,” she said.
    “Not yet.” He rolled and rubbed and squeezed them closer. “We don’t have much time, honey, and I can’t do anything for your toes.”
    “My lips are icy.”
    “Now, those…” He lowered his head. “I can do something about.”
    Clinging to the rock solid torso that was somehow, miraculously, still generating heat, she kissed him again. Craving more, she lifted her leg and wrapped it around his thigh, greedy for his warmth, for the strength of those granite-like muscles, for the certainty he had that they would survive.
    He massaged her back, hard and fast, making more heat and then dragged his hands over her rear end, lifting her onto him just a bit. He wasn’t hard—it would be superhuman in this temperature—but he was warm and sexy and powerful and if the dang water didn’t melt, then Callie certainly would.
    “Think about heat,” he whispered, kissing her ear, breathing that luscious hot air on her neck. “Think about how hot we could get. In a bed, naked, me inside you… all the way inside you.”
    How could he do that? How could he make those frozen muscles twitch and warm her bitterly cold body enough to feel the stirrings of desire? It didn’t matter; he did.
    “When I lick you and kiss you, you’ll fry under my tongue.”
    A gasp caught in her throat, and her legs almost buckled. “Ben.”
    “You’ll scream when I’m in you, Callie, when I fill you up and…” The rest was lost in a kiss because she couldn’t stand to hear it. But the words were doing the job, firing every cell in her body, making her heart beat faster, producing friction and need.
    Finally, he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.
    “That talking…” she said, trying to breath. “That worked. I’m… hot.”
    “I’m not just talking.” The words were barely whispered, but loud enough to curl her frostbitten toes. “Let’s check the ice.”
    No surprise… it had melted.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    Only sub-zero temperatures kept Ben from sporting wood hard enough to beat their way out the door. Callie turned him on, enough to keep his blood flowing and his brain working so he could get them the hell out of this icebox.
    He wanted her, hell, yeah. But first, he wanted to destroy that prick McManus, and the chef who cooked up more than the governor’s food.
    On his knees, with Callie holding his phone for light, Ben jimmied the nozzle of a bottle built for pouring ketchup not cracking locks. This had to work. They wouldn’t make it another twenty minutes in here.
    “How long will it take to re-freeze?” she asked, her chattering slower now. That wasn’t good. Her body functions were actually shutting down if she wasn’t shivering to generate heat.
    Next, she’d stop behaving rationally. Hell, any more kissing and she definitely wouldn’t have been behaving rationally.
    “Two tablespoons of water in a lock chamber of a freezer? Not long.” He stood slowly, setting the rest of the ice-filled bottle on the floor. “You’re going to make it.”
    It wasn’t a question. She could go either way, he sensed. Full-blown panic with stage two hypothermia, or utter calm. He had to keep her calm.
    She swayed slightly, losing her balance. “I’m really woozy, Ben.”
    Damn it. He pulled her into him, chafing her back and arms, breathing on her again. Instinct and training told him sex wasn’t going to work anymore. She needed something else to fire her up… something strong enough to give her the will to fight.
    Not sex, not the governor, not her precious black roses. Something important.
    “Tell me about her,” he whispered into her ear.
    She managed to lift her head and look at him, her lips bloodless blue, tiny shards of ice forming on her lashes, her skin as white as, well, snow.