Read Online Lord Grim's Witch (a medieval romance novelette) by Delilah Devlin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Delilah Devlin
Ads: Link
wasn’t running any better. He lifted the glass and gulped the foam.
She watched him, her eyes following the movement of his throat. Her tongue licked her full lower lip.
Before he gave it a thought, he handed her the same beer again.
Rather than pouring it on his shoes, her hands slid around the glass. Her gaze remained on the beer.
Satisfaction throbbed in his belly. She’d probably like an introduction before he asked her to go home with him. “Name’s Max.”
Her lips pressed together and then curved into a smile that stretched the full lower lip. The lady had a rather large mouth. It was perfect. “As in maximum?”
The smile warmed him while giving him confidence he hadn’t totally blown it. He shifted his feet and stepped closer, bringing her crossed legs between his. “Do you doubt it?” he asked, his voice low.
Her head tilted back, and a frown drew together her finely arched brows. “Do you think I’m impressed with your caveman tactics?”
His glance slid down to her breasts. Her headlights were erect little points that stabbed toward him. “Damn right,” he said, hoping he hadn’t read her body language wrong.
With a toss of her hair, she uncrossed her legs, her knee caressing the inside of his thigh. “Sorry about that,” she murmured, although she didn’t look sorry at all. She’d just checked him out.
His heart kicked into a slow, thrumming throb. The lady knew where this was leading. She’d accepted his beer.
The part of him that had tensed in pursuit relaxed. She could be his if he didn’t overplay his cards. And he had a decision to make—savor a slower rise to climax or take her hard and fast? “Dance with me.”
She shook her head, which swept the ends of her curly brown hair across the tops of her bare shoulders. “I don’t dance.”
He reached for the beer she held in her lap and set it on the bar. His fingers closed around her slender wrist, and he tugged her up from the stool.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She tottered on her heels for a moment, and her nipples brushed his chest. Her gaze, wide-eyed, set his heart thumping in a slower, heavier beat. He swept his arm around her waist and pulled her along to the dance floor. He needed her in his arms now .
They were the only couple on the small square of parquet-printed linoleum. Max didn’t give her a chance to protest, he simply pressed his body to hers—chest to hip, and slid his leg between her thighs. The heavy, grinding rhythm of the rock music suited his mood just fine. He shifted on his feet from side to side, not so much a dance as foreplay. His body introducing itself to hers.
She stiffened inside the circle of his arms. “Do you ever pay attention to what a woman tells you?” she asked, her words clipped.
Encouraged she hadn’t hauled off and slapped him yet, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Sweetheart, I was listening, but not to what your lips were saying.”
Her head jerked back, and her gaze bored into his. “Perhaps you should.”
The look halted him in his tracks. He’d pushed her too hard. “All right.” Sighing his regret, he stepped away. “I’m sorry. I misread the situation.”
But she didn’t walk away as he expected. Instead, her head tilted to the side, and she studied his face for a long moment, her teeth worrying her lower lip.
He wiped his expression free of hunger, hoping for another chance.
Finally, she looked around the bar and shrugged. “Well, seeing as I’m here…”
He didn’t wait for her to change her mind. He pulled her into his arms.
She nestled her face in the crook of his neck and groaned. “This is happening too fast.”
Relaxing to savor the sensations, he chuckled and pulled her closer. “I know what you mean,” he murmured. A dark, musky floral scent rose from her hair and skin, wrapping him in heat.
Her arms snuck up around his neck, and her small, firm breasts pressed against his chest.
Once again pretending to dance, he
She watched him, her eyes following the movement of his throat. Her tongue licked her full lower lip.
Before he gave it a thought, he handed her the same beer again.
Rather than pouring it on his shoes, her hands slid around the glass. Her gaze remained on the beer.
Satisfaction throbbed in his belly. She’d probably like an introduction before he asked her to go home with him. “Name’s Max.”
Her lips pressed together and then curved into a smile that stretched the full lower lip. The lady had a rather large mouth. It was perfect. “As in maximum?”
The smile warmed him while giving him confidence he hadn’t totally blown it. He shifted his feet and stepped closer, bringing her crossed legs between his. “Do you doubt it?” he asked, his voice low.
Her head tilted back, and a frown drew together her finely arched brows. “Do you think I’m impressed with your caveman tactics?”
His glance slid down to her breasts. Her headlights were erect little points that stabbed toward him. “Damn right,” he said, hoping he hadn’t read her body language wrong.
With a toss of her hair, she uncrossed her legs, her knee caressing the inside of his thigh. “Sorry about that,” she murmured, although she didn’t look sorry at all. She’d just checked him out.
His heart kicked into a slow, thrumming throb. The lady knew where this was leading. She’d accepted his beer.
The part of him that had tensed in pursuit relaxed. She could be his if he didn’t overplay his cards. And he had a decision to make—savor a slower rise to climax or take her hard and fast? “Dance with me.”
She shook her head, which swept the ends of her curly brown hair across the tops of her bare shoulders. “I don’t dance.”
He reached for the beer she held in her lap and set it on the bar. His fingers closed around her slender wrist, and he tugged her up from the stool.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She tottered on her heels for a moment, and her nipples brushed his chest. Her gaze, wide-eyed, set his heart thumping in a slower, heavier beat. He swept his arm around her waist and pulled her along to the dance floor. He needed her in his arms now .
They were the only couple on the small square of parquet-printed linoleum. Max didn’t give her a chance to protest, he simply pressed his body to hers—chest to hip, and slid his leg between her thighs. The heavy, grinding rhythm of the rock music suited his mood just fine. He shifted on his feet from side to side, not so much a dance as foreplay. His body introducing itself to hers.
She stiffened inside the circle of his arms. “Do you ever pay attention to what a woman tells you?” she asked, her words clipped.
Encouraged she hadn’t hauled off and slapped him yet, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Sweetheart, I was listening, but not to what your lips were saying.”
Her head jerked back, and her gaze bored into his. “Perhaps you should.”
The look halted him in his tracks. He’d pushed her too hard. “All right.” Sighing his regret, he stepped away. “I’m sorry. I misread the situation.”
But she didn’t walk away as he expected. Instead, her head tilted to the side, and she studied his face for a long moment, her teeth worrying her lower lip.
He wiped his expression free of hunger, hoping for another chance.
Finally, she looked around the bar and shrugged. “Well, seeing as I’m here…”
He didn’t wait for her to change her mind. He pulled her into his arms.
She nestled her face in the crook of his neck and groaned. “This is happening too fast.”
Relaxing to savor the sensations, he chuckled and pulled her closer. “I know what you mean,” he murmured. A dark, musky floral scent rose from her hair and skin, wrapping him in heat.
Her arms snuck up around his neck, and her small, firm breasts pressed against his chest.
Once again pretending to dance, he
Similar Books
