Read Online No Limits by Alison Kent - Free Book Online Page A

fell, as she wondered again if she was going to die. And then the door opened, the light blinding her. She raised her forearm to shield her eyes, then felt his hand—Simon’s hand—close around her wrist and help her to her feet. She dusted off her backside and her legs, realizing if she was covered with anything it was only dust, though that didn’t stop her from brushing at the clothes she wore, at her hair, at the tingles and tickles that she couldn’t shake.
    Then he was there, holding her, bringing her to his body, cupping the back of her head with his hand, soothing her, his voice soft and reassuring as it rumbled beneath her cheek.
    “I’m getting you wet,” she squeaked out, pulling her face away from his shirt and swiping her palm over the tracks of her tears.
    “I want you to do something for me,” he said, and as safe as he made her feel, she couldn’t imagine telling him no—a situation that was as unexpected as the way the heat of his body caused her heart to race.
    She nodded, wiping her eyes, deciding it a more noncommittal response than saying,
    “Anything.” She’d apparently lost her backbone in the water. She could only hope it surfaced soon.
    “Here, look.” He turned her toward the room’s bed, a mattress and box springs and cast-iron frame. He had spread out a sleeping bag on top, readied another to use as a blanket. The tiny camp pillow he’d added looked like heaven in plaid flannel. She had never been this exhausted in her life.
    “You need to sleep. You also need to see a doctor for that arm, but we’ll take care of that this afternoon.” He walked her to the bed. She climbed into it on her hands and knees, her eyes already closing again.
    Once she was all tucked in—she tried to manage on her own, a small show of independence, not wanting to appear weak when that’s exactly what she was, and oh my, but did his hands feel good and solid and warm—she asked him, “Who was that? What did they want?”
    “Later. First, you sleep.”
    Her eyes drifted open. She looked up into his, which were green like willows, like springtime. “You’ll be here? While I sleep?” When he hesitated, she reached for his wrist and added, “Please?”
    “I’d planned to visit my property management company around noon, but I can wait. It’ll give me time to take a look around this place and see what sort of repairs I’m going to need to do if I’m going to stay a few days.”
    That was al l she needed to hear. Her stomach settled. Warmth followed, washing over her skin. The last thought to cross her mind before sleep took her was that if he was going to stay here a few days, then she was, too.

Eleven
    Lorna Savoy paced the width of her office so many times Bear found himself fighting off nausea. Her office was smal l , and she wore the worst god-awful perfume, always had, and if she thought bathing in an extra splash of the stuff today was going to lure Simon Baptiste into her web, she was wrong, because the truth of the matter was, the smell would probably make the man retch.
    Even so, Bear couldn’t deny that Lorna was a fine-looking woman. She’d kept herself tight, and she wore clothes that showed off her body. The skirt she had on was straight and gray, her heels tall and black, her blouse a pattern of red and white and black belted snug to her waist.
    He watched the twitch of her hips, followed the bounce of her tits, remembered how firm her ass felt clutched tight in his hands as she rode him, her nipples pouting into his face, her pussy dripping all over his pole like she was trying to put out a fire. He waited, shifted…nothing. Not a bit of stirring in his shorts. It was a sad day when a man could admire a woman like Lorna, when he could remember the smell of her twat, the taste of it salty and wet, but needed a pill to get hard enough to put himself up inside her.
    She’d stopped in front of the window on the far side of the room, the one facing the parking lot of the strip