Read Online Nobody Does It Better by Julie Kenner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Kenner
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that, Paris didn't think she could summon the strength not to touch him back. Every part of him. With her fingers, her lips, her tongue. And not just kisses…
After all, wasn't that what she really wanted? Wasn't that why they were standing here in the hallway in front of a room furnished with little more than a bed? She'd been foolishly trying to trick herself into thinking she could survive on only his kisses. But in truth, she wanted all of him. Maybe it was only chemistry between them, but that was okay. After all, she didn't want or need any ties to this man. Just one night of passion to savor forever.
She imagined Alexander, stretched out naked on that king-size bed, holding his hand out, beckoning her to come to him. Urging her to make love to him all night. Just like he did in her fantasies.
The possibility sent her blood rushing.
Anticipation. An old ketchup commercial skittered through her head. I'm giddy, smitten and starstruck.
"Are you going to invite me in?" His soft words brought her back to the moment. From the husky tone of his voice, Paris knew he wasn't worried the answer would be "no."
"Sure," she said, then slipped the card key through the slot and watched as the light turned from red to green. Green for go. Green for no holds barred, damn the torpedoes, and all that jazz.
As her hand paused on the door handle, she realized that the etiquette of the situation eluded her. The Fates willing, she was about to sleep with a man she technically didn't know all that well—not a normal happening for her.
But he was Alexander. And with Alexander, Paris had no qualms. She may have only met him a few hours ago, but she'd known him all her life.
Girl, you are so losing it.
She ran her free hand through her hair, pulling the curls up and away from her face. What on earth was she doing? He wasn't Alexander, and she wasn't going to sleep with him. Adventure in fiction was fine and dandy. But it had no place in her real life. You are not going to make love with him. She needed to keep reminding herself of that. For some reason, she kept forgetting.
For some reason? Please. She had good reasons. Lots of them. Like that he was hotter than sin and so very close.
Still, no matter how much she wanted it to be true, he wasn't the man she'd imagined so many times when she was alone in her bed. He couldn't be.
She stressed the point, trying to mentally drive it home. He couldn't be Alexander, because Alexander didn't exist. And this man, the one standing behind her who had almost burned up the elevator with her, was not—repeat, not—her dream man.
She needed to call this off, run for shelter, before it was too late.
Unfortunately, her body wasn't really keen on this new call-it-off plan. Her body wanted to do the kinds of things people did behind hotel room doors.
Her body didn't even care that she didn't know his real name. But what was in a name, really? Especially when the chemistry was so potent. When she melted at his touch. When every thought in her head evaporated under the spell of him.
She sighed. Maybe he really was Alexander.
Or maybe she was trying really hard to think up a justification for sleeping with him.
" Paris ?"
She looked up, taking in his bad-boy-turned-corporate-exec good looks that practically oozed sex. The silk tie was loose and his first two buttons were undone, revealing a smattering of gold hair. His eyes glittered, intent on watching her. A smile played at his lips, and Paris thought of the wolf and Red Riding Hood. The better to eat you with.
Oh my.
Paris was having a hard time remembering why they were still standing in the doorway. "Um?"
His gaze darted to the partially opened door. "Do I need to guess the password?"
"What?" Paris said, then realized she was blocking his path. "Oh. Sorry."
She stepped into the narrow hallway leading to the main area of the room, then stopped cold. The bed loomed about nine feet away, illuminated by the one reading lamp the maid had
After all, wasn't that what she really wanted? Wasn't that why they were standing here in the hallway in front of a room furnished with little more than a bed? She'd been foolishly trying to trick herself into thinking she could survive on only his kisses. But in truth, she wanted all of him. Maybe it was only chemistry between them, but that was okay. After all, she didn't want or need any ties to this man. Just one night of passion to savor forever.
She imagined Alexander, stretched out naked on that king-size bed, holding his hand out, beckoning her to come to him. Urging her to make love to him all night. Just like he did in her fantasies.
The possibility sent her blood rushing.
Anticipation. An old ketchup commercial skittered through her head. I'm giddy, smitten and starstruck.
"Are you going to invite me in?" His soft words brought her back to the moment. From the husky tone of his voice, Paris knew he wasn't worried the answer would be "no."
"Sure," she said, then slipped the card key through the slot and watched as the light turned from red to green. Green for go. Green for no holds barred, damn the torpedoes, and all that jazz.
As her hand paused on the door handle, she realized that the etiquette of the situation eluded her. The Fates willing, she was about to sleep with a man she technically didn't know all that well—not a normal happening for her.
But he was Alexander. And with Alexander, Paris had no qualms. She may have only met him a few hours ago, but she'd known him all her life.
Girl, you are so losing it.
She ran her free hand through her hair, pulling the curls up and away from her face. What on earth was she doing? He wasn't Alexander, and she wasn't going to sleep with him. Adventure in fiction was fine and dandy. But it had no place in her real life. You are not going to make love with him. She needed to keep reminding herself of that. For some reason, she kept forgetting.
For some reason? Please. She had good reasons. Lots of them. Like that he was hotter than sin and so very close.
Still, no matter how much she wanted it to be true, he wasn't the man she'd imagined so many times when she was alone in her bed. He couldn't be.
She stressed the point, trying to mentally drive it home. He couldn't be Alexander, because Alexander didn't exist. And this man, the one standing behind her who had almost burned up the elevator with her, was not—repeat, not—her dream man.
She needed to call this off, run for shelter, before it was too late.
Unfortunately, her body wasn't really keen on this new call-it-off plan. Her body wanted to do the kinds of things people did behind hotel room doors.
Her body didn't even care that she didn't know his real name. But what was in a name, really? Especially when the chemistry was so potent. When she melted at his touch. When every thought in her head evaporated under the spell of him.
She sighed. Maybe he really was Alexander.
Or maybe she was trying really hard to think up a justification for sleeping with him.
" Paris ?"
She looked up, taking in his bad-boy-turned-corporate-exec good looks that practically oozed sex. The silk tie was loose and his first two buttons were undone, revealing a smattering of gold hair. His eyes glittered, intent on watching her. A smile played at his lips, and Paris thought of the wolf and Red Riding Hood. The better to eat you with.
Oh my.
Paris was having a hard time remembering why they were still standing in the doorway. "Um?"
His gaze darted to the partially opened door. "Do I need to guess the password?"
"What?" Paris said, then realized she was blocking his path. "Oh. Sorry."
She stepped into the narrow hallway leading to the main area of the room, then stopped cold. The bed loomed about nine feet away, illuminated by the one reading lamp the maid had
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