Read Online Hot Ticket by Deirdre Martin, Julia London, Annette Blair, Geri Buckley - Free Book Online

buildings, and hardwood floors. She had an overstuffed brocade couch and giant chair in the middle of her living room—the only room in the place, save the bedroom—and a fireplace that had been bricked off but still had a very cool brassmantel. The kitchen was small but larger than what was typical in New York, and she had new appliances.
    “Make yourself at home, and I’ll be right with you!” she called, disappearing into the bedroom.
    Parker put her laptop on a small table near the kitchen and walked into the big living area. There was a small TV in one corner, but at the angle it sat, he had the impression it was seldom used. She was an avid reader, too, judging by the many ways books had been stuffed into her built-in bookcases. A row of pictures along the mantel caught his eye, and he wandered over to have a look. There were pictures of Kelly with a dog and with a woman who looked a lot like her. Another was of a family gathering of some sort, a picture of her at a bar with a bunch of people.
    But no guy . Excellent. No former lover. No guy pal.
    “What are you doing?”
    He turned around—Kelly had changed her black sweater and donned a wispy, long-sleeved flowery pirate-looking shirt through which he could see a very lacy bra, and she’d let down her hair from the pony tail; it fell in soft blond waves around her shoulders. Damn. Just when he thought she was about as hot as a woman could possibly be, she turned up the flame.
    “Hello?” she said, laughing a little.
    “Just looking at your pictures,” he said, gesturing blindly to the mantel behind him.
    “I should really put up some new ones. Those are ancient.” She walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a bottle of water. “Want some?”
    Parker nodded and followed her into the kitchen. She ducked behind the refrigerator door and then stood up, smiling brightly, and handed him a water. When he took it from her, he couldn’t help himself—he let his fingers linger on hers. And then he drank, watching her.
    Kelly—beautiful, self-assured Kelly—flushed a little and put her bottle back in the fridge, closed the door, stood there looking at it,opened it again, and took the bottle out. “Water,” she said, as if reminding herself what she was doing.
    “Shall we get going?” Parker asked, enjoying the soft pink of her skin.
    “Yeah. Can’t wait to get to the museum,” she said with a roll of her eyes, and opened the fridge door, put the bottle of water back in, and shut it. She glanced up at Parker, smiled, and then tried to step around him. But her kitchen was too small, and she accidentally brushed up against him.
    With the woman’s near-perfect body, clad in a flimsy pirate shirt and lacy bra holding round, perky breasts against him, his one hundred percent male body went into full alert at the feel of a woman’s body against it. Without thinking, Parker put up an arm to stop her from going any farther.
    Pressed up against him, the counter behind her, and stopped by his arm, Kelly laughed softly and lifted a blistering green gaze to his face. “What are you doing?” she asked his lips.
    “Don’t know,” he answered truthfully and lowered his mouth to hers.
    He couldn’t help it—she was so pretty, so spunky, so sexy. He touched her lips, lightly and carefully, just enough to taste her. But then the pure male in him sprang to rapt attention, and he put down the bottle of water he was holding and slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her in even closer, nipping lightly at her lower lip.
    He expected Kelly to push him away, to slap him. But once again, she surprised him. She didn’t do any of that, just opened her mouth beneath his and breathed sweet breath into his mouth. That was it, all the invitation he needed, because he was suddenly kissing her with every ounce of himself, his tongue in her mouth, his hands on her body, sliding up and down, over her breasts, down her hips.
    When Kelly came up for air, she