Read Online Nobody but Him by Victoria Purman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Victoria Purman
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and your bones and helped you drift off to an easy and lingering slumber.
Yeah, except for him. Ry toed off his wet, sand-covered running shoes at the front door and left them there. He padded in his socks across the wooden floor to the stairs and then up to his bedroom on the mezzanine. With every step, there was a new ache in his legs and in the deep muscles of his arse. He needed a hot shower. Then coffee. Then peace and quiet.
A minute later, he was standing under the steaming spray of a sparkling stainless steel tropical showerhead, hot droplets rinsing through his hair and over his aching jaw. The previous owners had spared no expense on the house and, at that very moment, as the soothing hot water sluiced over his shoulders and ran in rivulets down his aching legs, Ry was glad they’d over-extended themselves and been forced to sell the place, lock, stock and barrel, in a fire sale. Some people’s misfortunes always turned into someone else’s good luck.
Ry let his eyes drift shut, trying to let the repetitive sound of the water against the tiles lull him into a peacefulness he wanted desperately to feel. He turned to face the taps, lifted his arms and flattened his palms up high on the wall, stretching out some of the tension in his shoulders.
Which was when the unmistakeable sensation of skin on skin shot through him. Two tightly budded nipples were teasing their way up his back and a pair of French-manicured hands snaked around his waist.
What the fuck?
CHAPTER
7
‘Good morning handsome.’ Amanda’s voice was in his ear but her fingers were doing most of the talking, trailing a slow but unambiguous journey down his belly to his … Ry quickly looked down … oh no they weren’t. He grabbed her hands before she got to anything important and spun around to face her, spluttering water and curse words into the spray.
Holy shit. She was naked. With a body straight out of a men’s health magazine. Willing. Dripping wet. And looking at his dick with clear intent.
‘Jesus, Amanda …’ he finally managed. She stepped closer, a thigh nudging between his legs, forcing his back up against the cold tiles. There wasn’t much room to manoeuvre between the metal taps digging into his kidneys and her firm breasts pressing insistently into his chest.
Talk about a rock and a hard place.
Not hard, no. Don’t think about this being hard. No fucking way.
Amanda’s eyes flicked down to her wrists, encircled in a fierce grip by his strong fingers. She licked her full lips. ‘You want it rough, Ry? Interesting. I’d never have picked you for one of those guys. But I’m up for it.’
Christ alive. This had to stop right now. Ry gritted his teeth. Her parents were about twenty feet away and … yes, think of her parents. Ry let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in.
‘Amanda. Stop.’ He released her wrists from his grip and turned the taps off. For a fleeting second he thought about leaving the cold one on at full force and aiming it right at her. Instead, he turned and manoeuvred past her, trying not to rub against her as he did, before grabbing a big white towel from the rail and hurriedly wrapping it around his waist. He pulled another from a shelf by the hand basin and handed it to Amanda.
‘Here. Put this on.’
Amanda considered it for a moment, then let it drop to the floor. She propped one hand up against the open door, the other on her cocked hip and gave him an admiring once over.
He couldn’t help but notice that she was in killer shape, if you likedthat sort of thing. Slender hips. A flat stomach, her breasts high and round. Long, long legs. This would be so much easier if he wanted her, if he felt any vague interest at all. Ry planted his fists on his hips and tipped his head to the ceiling, trying not to look at her while he figured out exactly what to say.
Nasty bastard or nice guy?
‘God, look at you. You must work out. A lot.’ Amanda’s gaze lingered on his
Yeah, except for him. Ry toed off his wet, sand-covered running shoes at the front door and left them there. He padded in his socks across the wooden floor to the stairs and then up to his bedroom on the mezzanine. With every step, there was a new ache in his legs and in the deep muscles of his arse. He needed a hot shower. Then coffee. Then peace and quiet.
A minute later, he was standing under the steaming spray of a sparkling stainless steel tropical showerhead, hot droplets rinsing through his hair and over his aching jaw. The previous owners had spared no expense on the house and, at that very moment, as the soothing hot water sluiced over his shoulders and ran in rivulets down his aching legs, Ry was glad they’d over-extended themselves and been forced to sell the place, lock, stock and barrel, in a fire sale. Some people’s misfortunes always turned into someone else’s good luck.
Ry let his eyes drift shut, trying to let the repetitive sound of the water against the tiles lull him into a peacefulness he wanted desperately to feel. He turned to face the taps, lifted his arms and flattened his palms up high on the wall, stretching out some of the tension in his shoulders.
Which was when the unmistakeable sensation of skin on skin shot through him. Two tightly budded nipples were teasing their way up his back and a pair of French-manicured hands snaked around his waist.
What the fuck?
CHAPTER
7
‘Good morning handsome.’ Amanda’s voice was in his ear but her fingers were doing most of the talking, trailing a slow but unambiguous journey down his belly to his … Ry quickly looked down … oh no they weren’t. He grabbed her hands before she got to anything important and spun around to face her, spluttering water and curse words into the spray.
Holy shit. She was naked. With a body straight out of a men’s health magazine. Willing. Dripping wet. And looking at his dick with clear intent.
‘Jesus, Amanda …’ he finally managed. She stepped closer, a thigh nudging between his legs, forcing his back up against the cold tiles. There wasn’t much room to manoeuvre between the metal taps digging into his kidneys and her firm breasts pressing insistently into his chest.
Talk about a rock and a hard place.
Not hard, no. Don’t think about this being hard. No fucking way.
Amanda’s eyes flicked down to her wrists, encircled in a fierce grip by his strong fingers. She licked her full lips. ‘You want it rough, Ry? Interesting. I’d never have picked you for one of those guys. But I’m up for it.’
Christ alive. This had to stop right now. Ry gritted his teeth. Her parents were about twenty feet away and … yes, think of her parents. Ry let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding in.
‘Amanda. Stop.’ He released her wrists from his grip and turned the taps off. For a fleeting second he thought about leaving the cold one on at full force and aiming it right at her. Instead, he turned and manoeuvred past her, trying not to rub against her as he did, before grabbing a big white towel from the rail and hurriedly wrapping it around his waist. He pulled another from a shelf by the hand basin and handed it to Amanda.
‘Here. Put this on.’
Amanda considered it for a moment, then let it drop to the floor. She propped one hand up against the open door, the other on her cocked hip and gave him an admiring once over.
He couldn’t help but notice that she was in killer shape, if you likedthat sort of thing. Slender hips. A flat stomach, her breasts high and round. Long, long legs. This would be so much easier if he wanted her, if he felt any vague interest at all. Ry planted his fists on his hips and tipped his head to the ceiling, trying not to look at her while he figured out exactly what to say.
Nasty bastard or nice guy?
‘God, look at you. You must work out. A lot.’ Amanda’s gaze lingered on his
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