Read Online Invitation to Seduction: Open Invitation, Book 1 by Jasmine Haynes, Jennifer Skully - Free Book Online
Authors: Jasmine Haynes, Jennifer Skully
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home that night?”
Again, no response. She didn’t want to be afraid of him.
He tugged on her hand, pulling her close so that his voice was the only thing she could concentrate on. “I want you. For tonight, if that’s all I can have. Then I’ll leave you alone.” He rubbed his face in her hair. “If that’s what you want.”
The damage, if any at all, was already done. Right now, she wanted to believe him.
He waited, her hand held to his chest, over his heart.
The viewing hall doors flapped open, emitting a burst of laughter and music. Someone bumped her arm. She stood in the middle of a crowded lobby, naked under her skirt and her breasts covered only by a thin, see-through blouse. Sex upstairs, sex downstairs, sex everywhere around them, yet his dark gaze on her wasn’t about sex at all. It was passion, it was fire, it was what she’d been longing for, dreaming of, fantasizing about. She shivered. In his eyes, she saw the invitation to seduction. And more.
“I’ll go with you.” Wherever he wanted to take her.
* * * * *
He’d borrowed a friend’s car. Not that he figured she’d leave with him, but he didn’t want the truck, with its company logo, sitting in the underground parking for her to see. Now Stephen damned the bucket seats. He wanted her next to him.
Her scent filled the car. Citrus and sex. More than the hand brake sat between them. She hadn’t said a word since he’d closed the passenger door. He sat tongue-tied, his guts twisted into knots, like a first date at sixteen.
For a moment, when she’d stood there looking into his eyes, waiting, wanting, he’d wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to say she’d given him the address herself, months ago, so he could mail the commission checks. But he couldn’t kill the fantasy, not yet, just as he couldn’t let her go home. So he’d said nothing, let her draw her own conclusions, and hoped to hell they didn’t scare the shit out of her.
She’d regretted her decision the moment they entered the garage. He’d felt her doubt in her withdrawal, her hand slipping from his, her distance growing in inches and in silence.
He didn’t take her far, only a fifteen-minute drive from the club to the reservoir. The park closed at dusk. He pulled over just short of the gate. The moon glimmered across smooth water, and when he opened the door, warm summer air caressed his face the way he wanted her to stroke him. He stood, waiting for the soft snick of her door latch to tell him she followed.
The grass leading down to the water’s edge had been clipped recently. The sharp tang of its fresh shave rose up from the ground. He wanted to make love to her here. In the moonlight. Amid the stars and the sweet night air.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, as she came to stand beside him. Close, but not close enough.
He stuck his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to pull her beneath his arm. “I like it at night when no one’s around.”
“It’s quiet.”
Crickets chirped in the woods behind them. An owl hooted. He knew she meant the quiet without voices. Nature didn’t disturb the peace, people did. “The afternoon wind dies down so the water’s still.”
He turned slightly to look at her in profile. She hugged her arms to her breasts, covering the sheerness of her blouse. Her hair, artfully messy, framed her face. She had an elegant nose, aristocratic, with the slightest of upturns. Full lips, defined chin, and the smooth lines of her throat leading down to the hollow. He wanted to taste the scented skin there.
I love you.
He wouldn’t say the words, not now, probably not ever. Yet he could acknowledge the emotion to himself. She was beautiful. Talented, passionate, thoughtful, and caring. Everything he’d ever wanted, all the things he’d never found. Not in one woman.
And she was here with him.
He opened the car door, put the key in the ignition, and rolled down the window. Turning on the radio, a soft, meandering
Again, no response. She didn’t want to be afraid of him.
He tugged on her hand, pulling her close so that his voice was the only thing she could concentrate on. “I want you. For tonight, if that’s all I can have. Then I’ll leave you alone.” He rubbed his face in her hair. “If that’s what you want.”
The damage, if any at all, was already done. Right now, she wanted to believe him.
He waited, her hand held to his chest, over his heart.
The viewing hall doors flapped open, emitting a burst of laughter and music. Someone bumped her arm. She stood in the middle of a crowded lobby, naked under her skirt and her breasts covered only by a thin, see-through blouse. Sex upstairs, sex downstairs, sex everywhere around them, yet his dark gaze on her wasn’t about sex at all. It was passion, it was fire, it was what she’d been longing for, dreaming of, fantasizing about. She shivered. In his eyes, she saw the invitation to seduction. And more.
“I’ll go with you.” Wherever he wanted to take her.
* * * * *
He’d borrowed a friend’s car. Not that he figured she’d leave with him, but he didn’t want the truck, with its company logo, sitting in the underground parking for her to see. Now Stephen damned the bucket seats. He wanted her next to him.
Her scent filled the car. Citrus and sex. More than the hand brake sat between them. She hadn’t said a word since he’d closed the passenger door. He sat tongue-tied, his guts twisted into knots, like a first date at sixteen.
For a moment, when she’d stood there looking into his eyes, waiting, wanting, he’d wanted to tell her the truth. He wanted to say she’d given him the address herself, months ago, so he could mail the commission checks. But he couldn’t kill the fantasy, not yet, just as he couldn’t let her go home. So he’d said nothing, let her draw her own conclusions, and hoped to hell they didn’t scare the shit out of her.
She’d regretted her decision the moment they entered the garage. He’d felt her doubt in her withdrawal, her hand slipping from his, her distance growing in inches and in silence.
He didn’t take her far, only a fifteen-minute drive from the club to the reservoir. The park closed at dusk. He pulled over just short of the gate. The moon glimmered across smooth water, and when he opened the door, warm summer air caressed his face the way he wanted her to stroke him. He stood, waiting for the soft snick of her door latch to tell him she followed.
The grass leading down to the water’s edge had been clipped recently. The sharp tang of its fresh shave rose up from the ground. He wanted to make love to her here. In the moonlight. Amid the stars and the sweet night air.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, as she came to stand beside him. Close, but not close enough.
He stuck his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to pull her beneath his arm. “I like it at night when no one’s around.”
“It’s quiet.”
Crickets chirped in the woods behind them. An owl hooted. He knew she meant the quiet without voices. Nature didn’t disturb the peace, people did. “The afternoon wind dies down so the water’s still.”
He turned slightly to look at her in profile. She hugged her arms to her breasts, covering the sheerness of her blouse. Her hair, artfully messy, framed her face. She had an elegant nose, aristocratic, with the slightest of upturns. Full lips, defined chin, and the smooth lines of her throat leading down to the hollow. He wanted to taste the scented skin there.
I love you.
He wouldn’t say the words, not now, probably not ever. Yet he could acknowledge the emotion to himself. She was beautiful. Talented, passionate, thoughtful, and caring. Everything he’d ever wanted, all the things he’d never found. Not in one woman.
And she was here with him.
He opened the car door, put the key in the ignition, and rolled down the window. Turning on the radio, a soft, meandering
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