Read Online Marked by Elisabeth Naughton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elisabeth Naughton
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the waistband dipping low over her back until he saw a glimpse of white lace peeking from beneath. His pulse kicked up and the blood roared in his head.
She opened a cupboard to her right and eased up on her toes to put a bowl away. When it was obvious she was having trouble reaching the highest shelf, he rose slowly and moved to help her. The pain in his leg had dimmed to a dull throb, but there was no reason to tell her that.
Citrus and lavender drifted to his nose when he got close, remnants of the same shampoo he’d used in her shower and something else that could have been lotion or perfume, he wasn’t sure which. He eased in behind her and took the bowl from her hand. “Let me help.”
She stiffened as their fingers brushed. The muscles in her arms and legs went rigid. His chest brushed her back as he set the bowl on the top shelf, and his elbow ran down her forearm in a barely there brush of skin against skin.
“Thank you,” she said softly, easing back down on her feet. The motion brought his hips into contact with that delectable ass he’d been admiring before, and the erection he’d been fighting all night came roaring back.
He knew she felt it because she went still. All through dinner, as they’d made mindless small talk about the area and the lake and her neighbors, she’d been looking at him like she wasn’t sure what he would do next. For a while he’d thought it was fear making her wary, but now he knew that wasn’t the case. The way her body tensed, the way she drew in a sharp breath and held it without moving at their contact was a clear sign of arousal.
Neither of them spoke, and in the silence he could hear her heart beating its erratic rhythm. He lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder and ran it between his thumb and forefinger. It was smooth and silky, and he had a wicked desire to see the dark mass spill over his abdomen as her lips trailed south along his body. He lifted the lock to his nose and sniffed. “Oranges or grapefruit?”
She swallowed. “Bed Head.”
His brow lifted, and he knew she caught his confused expression from the corner of her eye. “It’s a type of shampoo.” She turned slowly and eased back just enough so her sweet behind brushed against him and then was gone. “You really do live in an isolated area, don’t you?”
He nodded, watching the way her eyes flicked over his face as if searching for the answer to some unspoken question.
“I’m almost done here,” she said, “and it sounds like the CD ran out. Why don’t you go into the living room and find something else to listen to? The CD player’s in the entertainment center.”
At her words, he realized the speakers in the kitchen were silent. “If you wouldn’t mind, there are a few stitches left in my leg that could be removed. I could use your help.”
Her gaze flashed down to his denim-clad thigh, hovering momentarily on his growing erection. Her eyes widened slightly just before a blush crept over her cheeks. She turned quickly back to her dishes. “Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll, um, grab some supplies and meet you in the living room.”
A grin sliced across Theron’s mouth as he headed for the stereo cabinet. His leg was growing stronger by the minute, and there really was no reason to remove the few stitches that were left, as they’d be gone by the following morning, but he wasn’t above using any means he could to get his little human exactly where he wanted her.
She was, he decided as he opened the cabinet and glanced around the living room, a multitude of inconsistencies. When he’d asked how she found him behind that strip club, she’d told him she worked there. He’d tried to picture her in XScream but couldn’t. She was tall for a woman, and she definitely had the body to strip, but there was an innocence to her eyes that other humans who worked in those places lacked. The way she’d taken care of him after the attack—a stranger who’d stumbled out of a strip club, no
She opened a cupboard to her right and eased up on her toes to put a bowl away. When it was obvious she was having trouble reaching the highest shelf, he rose slowly and moved to help her. The pain in his leg had dimmed to a dull throb, but there was no reason to tell her that.
Citrus and lavender drifted to his nose when he got close, remnants of the same shampoo he’d used in her shower and something else that could have been lotion or perfume, he wasn’t sure which. He eased in behind her and took the bowl from her hand. “Let me help.”
She stiffened as their fingers brushed. The muscles in her arms and legs went rigid. His chest brushed her back as he set the bowl on the top shelf, and his elbow ran down her forearm in a barely there brush of skin against skin.
“Thank you,” she said softly, easing back down on her feet. The motion brought his hips into contact with that delectable ass he’d been admiring before, and the erection he’d been fighting all night came roaring back.
He knew she felt it because she went still. All through dinner, as they’d made mindless small talk about the area and the lake and her neighbors, she’d been looking at him like she wasn’t sure what he would do next. For a while he’d thought it was fear making her wary, but now he knew that wasn’t the case. The way her body tensed, the way she drew in a sharp breath and held it without moving at their contact was a clear sign of arousal.
Neither of them spoke, and in the silence he could hear her heart beating its erratic rhythm. He lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder and ran it between his thumb and forefinger. It was smooth and silky, and he had a wicked desire to see the dark mass spill over his abdomen as her lips trailed south along his body. He lifted the lock to his nose and sniffed. “Oranges or grapefruit?”
She swallowed. “Bed Head.”
His brow lifted, and he knew she caught his confused expression from the corner of her eye. “It’s a type of shampoo.” She turned slowly and eased back just enough so her sweet behind brushed against him and then was gone. “You really do live in an isolated area, don’t you?”
He nodded, watching the way her eyes flicked over his face as if searching for the answer to some unspoken question.
“I’m almost done here,” she said, “and it sounds like the CD ran out. Why don’t you go into the living room and find something else to listen to? The CD player’s in the entertainment center.”
At her words, he realized the speakers in the kitchen were silent. “If you wouldn’t mind, there are a few stitches left in my leg that could be removed. I could use your help.”
Her gaze flashed down to his denim-clad thigh, hovering momentarily on his growing erection. Her eyes widened slightly just before a blush crept over her cheeks. She turned quickly back to her dishes. “Oh, yeah. Sure. I’ll, um, grab some supplies and meet you in the living room.”
A grin sliced across Theron’s mouth as he headed for the stereo cabinet. His leg was growing stronger by the minute, and there really was no reason to remove the few stitches that were left, as they’d be gone by the following morning, but he wasn’t above using any means he could to get his little human exactly where he wanted her.
She was, he decided as he opened the cabinet and glanced around the living room, a multitude of inconsistencies. When he’d asked how she found him behind that strip club, she’d told him she worked there. He’d tried to picture her in XScream but couldn’t. She was tall for a woman, and she definitely had the body to strip, but there was an innocence to her eyes that other humans who worked in those places lacked. The way she’d taken care of him after the attack—a stranger who’d stumbled out of a strip club, no
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