Read Online Make Me by Alyssa Turner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alyssa Turner
Tags: Erotic Romance, menage
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solemn shake of his head. “No, I’m thinking that you’re too special and I’m just getting over my last…I don’t even know what you call it. Anyway, you don’t deserve to get tangled in my fucked-up relationship issues.” He swallowed hard and stood up. “I’m really sorry I kissed you.”
Rebecca felt her heart hit the floor. Whereas she’d been floating moments ago, now she might as well dig a hole and stick her head inside. She stared at the beige, nondescript rug without a clue as to the best comeback to that bit of crushing news.
Then there he was again, next to her on the futon and raising her chin toward him, his thumb brushing softly at her jaw. “No, that’s wrong. I’m not sorry I kissed you. Not at all.”
His touch was a fucking neurological phenomenon. The tortured look in his almond-shaped eyes, a mind-scrambling beacon. All Rebecca wanted to do was be with this man. If he made her into mush just by looking at her then…my God.
Her voice squeaked out in a breathless whisper. “I’m a big girl. Let me decide if I want to be tangled up.”
Oh, she didn’t sound so big just then—more like weak and desperate, because no woman with any sense walked into something so obviously dangerous. Not on purpose.
He exhaled in a rush, as if he’d been holding his breath. “I won’t lie. That felt good. Too good maybe.”
“It did feel good.” Now she held her breath, understanding instantly why he’d done so. They were at a precipice, and the options were clear. Walk away from the pleasure calling them from within the smoky haze of uncertainty, or jump and pray no one got hurt.
He licked his lip, and she knew she’d have to kiss him again. Was there a choice? Not when that delicious sensation beckoned to her. She knew she’d never forget how amazing their first kiss had been. Rebecca closed her eyes, leaned in, and took her chances.
Pleasure marched an effervescent trail through her body almost the moment his lips returned to hers. So soft were those full lips, kissing her with a reverence that didn’t seem to fit someone she’d only just met the day before. Nothing was ever so perfect, so effortless. For Rebecca, this whirling, fizzy-headed feeling that made her muscles go completely lax was a genuine miracle. She’d been kissed before. Sure, there had been more than a few, but none had come close to what Manny was doing. His tongue lapped against hers in a slow, sensuous dance—hypnotic, persistent. This kiss flowed thick and sweet, honey in her mouth from a man whose strength as a Marine was known and whose tenderness was felt. Rebecca could have kissed him all night. Something down deep made her correct that statement—she could kiss him forever.
His hands kept a steady vigil at the back of her neck and on her hip, holding her in place for that endless kiss as though he knew the control he’d taken over her body. The hold was firm, certain. The way her body reacted to him seemed a visceral response to his touch. No, nothing was ever this perfect.
Manny’s lips slipped away from hers, bathing her jaw and then her neck with moist caresses while his thumb shifted pressure under her chin, tilting her head to his liking. She inhaled sharply at the sensation and tingled over the raspy grunt of desire that tumbled from his mouth. His hand retreated on a lazy path over her throat, her collarbone, grazing past her breast to join his other hand at the hem of her blouse. They eased to her belly, his breathing becoming more ragged as he took the fabric into his grip. She heard a growl. Only it didn’t come from Manny.
“Oh God, that’s embarrassing,” she grumbled.
“You’re hungry.” He sat back on his haunches, the spell between them broken. “Dinner should be ready in a few more minutes.”
He got up, and Rebecca wanted to beg him to forget her stomach. She was hungry for so much more than his cooking. “Don’t stop,” she said in barely more than a whisper.
“I
Rebecca felt her heart hit the floor. Whereas she’d been floating moments ago, now she might as well dig a hole and stick her head inside. She stared at the beige, nondescript rug without a clue as to the best comeback to that bit of crushing news.
Then there he was again, next to her on the futon and raising her chin toward him, his thumb brushing softly at her jaw. “No, that’s wrong. I’m not sorry I kissed you. Not at all.”
His touch was a fucking neurological phenomenon. The tortured look in his almond-shaped eyes, a mind-scrambling beacon. All Rebecca wanted to do was be with this man. If he made her into mush just by looking at her then…my God.
Her voice squeaked out in a breathless whisper. “I’m a big girl. Let me decide if I want to be tangled up.”
Oh, she didn’t sound so big just then—more like weak and desperate, because no woman with any sense walked into something so obviously dangerous. Not on purpose.
He exhaled in a rush, as if he’d been holding his breath. “I won’t lie. That felt good. Too good maybe.”
“It did feel good.” Now she held her breath, understanding instantly why he’d done so. They were at a precipice, and the options were clear. Walk away from the pleasure calling them from within the smoky haze of uncertainty, or jump and pray no one got hurt.
He licked his lip, and she knew she’d have to kiss him again. Was there a choice? Not when that delicious sensation beckoned to her. She knew she’d never forget how amazing their first kiss had been. Rebecca closed her eyes, leaned in, and took her chances.
Pleasure marched an effervescent trail through her body almost the moment his lips returned to hers. So soft were those full lips, kissing her with a reverence that didn’t seem to fit someone she’d only just met the day before. Nothing was ever so perfect, so effortless. For Rebecca, this whirling, fizzy-headed feeling that made her muscles go completely lax was a genuine miracle. She’d been kissed before. Sure, there had been more than a few, but none had come close to what Manny was doing. His tongue lapped against hers in a slow, sensuous dance—hypnotic, persistent. This kiss flowed thick and sweet, honey in her mouth from a man whose strength as a Marine was known and whose tenderness was felt. Rebecca could have kissed him all night. Something down deep made her correct that statement—she could kiss him forever.
His hands kept a steady vigil at the back of her neck and on her hip, holding her in place for that endless kiss as though he knew the control he’d taken over her body. The hold was firm, certain. The way her body reacted to him seemed a visceral response to his touch. No, nothing was ever this perfect.
Manny’s lips slipped away from hers, bathing her jaw and then her neck with moist caresses while his thumb shifted pressure under her chin, tilting her head to his liking. She inhaled sharply at the sensation and tingled over the raspy grunt of desire that tumbled from his mouth. His hand retreated on a lazy path over her throat, her collarbone, grazing past her breast to join his other hand at the hem of her blouse. They eased to her belly, his breathing becoming more ragged as he took the fabric into his grip. She heard a growl. Only it didn’t come from Manny.
“Oh God, that’s embarrassing,” she grumbled.
“You’re hungry.” He sat back on his haunches, the spell between them broken. “Dinner should be ready in a few more minutes.”
He got up, and Rebecca wanted to beg him to forget her stomach. She was hungry for so much more than his cooking. “Don’t stop,” she said in barely more than a whisper.
“I
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