Read Online Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress by Anne Oliver - Free Book Online
Authors: Anne Oliver
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help yourself.’
‘I forgot.’
Next he knew she’d planted her butt on the bench beside him. He didn’t know how she’d got there—one moment she was standing behind him safely out of his line of vision, the next moment she was on the counter top. Perhaps she flew.
He made the mistake of looking at her. Astute silver eyes stared back at him. She wasn’t worried about losing her commission or her accommodation, he realised—as he’d already said, he needed her. And they both knew it.
Leaning one elbow alongside her on the counter top, he forced himself to hold her gaze. Ignore the normal red-blooded male’s reaction. The one still racking his system.
But he was a normal red-blooded male. And the warmth of her skin, fair and fresh and fragrant, teased him, tempting him to reach out and touch. He curled his fingers, confining the urge, shooting temptation straight to his already tormented lower body.
Plump rosy lips curved ever so slightly, hinted at a sense of fun. He hadn’t experienced anything remotely funny in a long time. When was the last time he’d laughed? Did he even have a sense of humour any more? he wondered. He had the feeling Didi would be the type to breathe life back into it.
Breathe. He could hear the soft sound of her steady exhalations. Breasts rising, falling…He wanted to look down and see for himself. His fingers itched again to test the weight of her womanly flesh and feel her nipples rise in anticipation against his palms.
A good reason to focus on her face. The eyes brimming with hidden thoughts, the high cheekbones, the neat flat ear lobes—‘You’re wearing two different earrings.’
She tipped her head to one side, setting the left one tinkling. ‘It’s The Look.’
‘The look?’
‘Asymmetric. Like your Sheila Dodd. Like your tie.’ Her eyes dipped and she studied his throat through long silky lashes.
He swallowed over the lump that had suddenly mushroomed from nowhere. ‘My tie’s asymmetric?’
Wiggling her bottom along the bench until she was within reach, she slotted her fingers behind it, loosening the knot and yanking the silk sideways in one swift movement. ‘It is now.’ Grinning, she smoothed it all the way down his chest, her eyes following the path of her fingers, every part of his body responding to the touch. ‘That’s better. It looked like it was strangling you.’
Perceptive girl. Or maybe it was blazingly obvious, he thought, reaching up now to undo the top button of his shirt. He’d never thought this apartment overly warm. Until this woman had turned the heat up.
‘Okay. I made a mistake. I intended to impress you with my gourmet dinners specially imported from the Six Spice Deli around the corner.’
Now it was he who manoeuvred along the counter top so Didi was directly in front of him, her knees bumping his waist. So he could rest his hands on her hips. So he could look directly into her eyes and say, ‘And I’m probably about to make another one,’ as he laid his lips on hers.
CHAPTER FIVE
T HE first touch of Didi’s mouth against his detonated an explosion that knocked Cameron sideways and shattered the illusion that control was his rock-solid foundation, that he could pull away any time.
Sparks. They sizzled along his nerves with the spectacular ferocity of frayed power cables, snapping and crackling through his blood, sending his hormones spearing into the sky like some crazed Eureka Tower.
He felt her instant response—the heave of her breasts as she struggled to drag in air and push him away, then her mouth softening, opening, hands rising to clutch at his shirt. The moan deep in her throat as he changed the angle for better access.
Her taste was a sweet temptation, luring him deeper to sample the dark lusciousness of her tongue, to drink in its hot honey flavour as it writhed with his.
This was no ordinary kiss. This was the force of a wrecking ball at its most dramatic, splintering thought and crumbling to dust
‘I forgot.’
Next he knew she’d planted her butt on the bench beside him. He didn’t know how she’d got there—one moment she was standing behind him safely out of his line of vision, the next moment she was on the counter top. Perhaps she flew.
He made the mistake of looking at her. Astute silver eyes stared back at him. She wasn’t worried about losing her commission or her accommodation, he realised—as he’d already said, he needed her. And they both knew it.
Leaning one elbow alongside her on the counter top, he forced himself to hold her gaze. Ignore the normal red-blooded male’s reaction. The one still racking his system.
But he was a normal red-blooded male. And the warmth of her skin, fair and fresh and fragrant, teased him, tempting him to reach out and touch. He curled his fingers, confining the urge, shooting temptation straight to his already tormented lower body.
Plump rosy lips curved ever so slightly, hinted at a sense of fun. He hadn’t experienced anything remotely funny in a long time. When was the last time he’d laughed? Did he even have a sense of humour any more? he wondered. He had the feeling Didi would be the type to breathe life back into it.
Breathe. He could hear the soft sound of her steady exhalations. Breasts rising, falling…He wanted to look down and see for himself. His fingers itched again to test the weight of her womanly flesh and feel her nipples rise in anticipation against his palms.
A good reason to focus on her face. The eyes brimming with hidden thoughts, the high cheekbones, the neat flat ear lobes—‘You’re wearing two different earrings.’
She tipped her head to one side, setting the left one tinkling. ‘It’s The Look.’
‘The look?’
‘Asymmetric. Like your Sheila Dodd. Like your tie.’ Her eyes dipped and she studied his throat through long silky lashes.
He swallowed over the lump that had suddenly mushroomed from nowhere. ‘My tie’s asymmetric?’
Wiggling her bottom along the bench until she was within reach, she slotted her fingers behind it, loosening the knot and yanking the silk sideways in one swift movement. ‘It is now.’ Grinning, she smoothed it all the way down his chest, her eyes following the path of her fingers, every part of his body responding to the touch. ‘That’s better. It looked like it was strangling you.’
Perceptive girl. Or maybe it was blazingly obvious, he thought, reaching up now to undo the top button of his shirt. He’d never thought this apartment overly warm. Until this woman had turned the heat up.
‘Okay. I made a mistake. I intended to impress you with my gourmet dinners specially imported from the Six Spice Deli around the corner.’
Now it was he who manoeuvred along the counter top so Didi was directly in front of him, her knees bumping his waist. So he could rest his hands on her hips. So he could look directly into her eyes and say, ‘And I’m probably about to make another one,’ as he laid his lips on hers.
CHAPTER FIVE
T HE first touch of Didi’s mouth against his detonated an explosion that knocked Cameron sideways and shattered the illusion that control was his rock-solid foundation, that he could pull away any time.
Sparks. They sizzled along his nerves with the spectacular ferocity of frayed power cables, snapping and crackling through his blood, sending his hormones spearing into the sky like some crazed Eureka Tower.
He felt her instant response—the heave of her breasts as she struggled to drag in air and push him away, then her mouth softening, opening, hands rising to clutch at his shirt. The moan deep in her throat as he changed the angle for better access.
Her taste was a sweet temptation, luring him deeper to sample the dark lusciousness of her tongue, to drink in its hot honey flavour as it writhed with his.
This was no ordinary kiss. This was the force of a wrecking ball at its most dramatic, splintering thought and crumbling to dust
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