Read Online Perilous Pleasures by Patricia Watters - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Watters
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the heat. Pulling the pins from her hair, she released the coil and shook it loose, sending tresses cascading over her shoulders. Then she stripped and stood naked at the wash basin. As she sponged herself off, thoughts of Stefan's hands where the cloth was passing made her restless for the reality of what he'd asked. To come to her bed and hold her flesh to flesh. She'd never been with a man like that. Never had a man caress her breast as Stefan had. Yet, with Stefan, it seemed right. As if her body had been designed by God for Stefan's pleasure, and Stefan's body for hers. And when he held her in his arms, they fit perfectly together. Although she'd never given much thought to the marital act, she was certain she and Stefan would fit together in that way as well.
Disturbed with the direction of her thoughts, she shoved the dangerous notion aside, slipped on a sheer nightgown and crawled into bed, knowing she'd have to be up at dawn to do her exercises, coach her acrobatics students and practice with Otto and Gene, all before the afternoon and evening performances. She sighed. She wondered if it was healthy to devote so much to one thing. With that thought, she turned off the light and closed her eyes...
She had not been asleep long when she awakened, damp with perspiration, and feeling uncomfortably hot. She propped open the door to the passageway, noting as she did that Stefan's door was also propped open. Thankful for the breeze that drifted in from the opened porthole at the end of the passageway, she crawled back into bed...
Several hours later she awakened, disturbed by low gurgling sounds. She opened her eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. The noise stopped. She closed her eyes once more and turned over. The noise started again. Low gurgling rumbles. Throaty noises. PURRS!
She sat up and turned on the light. And stared into the wide tawny eyes of the tiger cub, who sat beside her bed, staring back at her. Shoving the hair from her face, she edged away slowly, pressing her back against the pillow. When she lowered her hand, the cub bounded onto the bed and pounced on top of her, his velvety body pressing against her chest, his paws on her shoulders, his rough tongue licking her chin.
" Simba ," Stefan's voice came from across the passageway. Simba !" His voice was closer. And then he was there, standing in the doorway, stripped to the waist, wearing only his drawers. " Simba , down !" he commanded. The cub jumped off the bed and crouched at Stefan's feet. Stefan looked at Joanna. "It seems you made a friend in the menagerie."
"So it does," Joanna replied, struggling to collect her thoughts as she stared at Stefan's heavily-muscled body. Her gaze zigzagged between three parallel scars on one shoulder and a ragged scar crossing his ribs, and down to a scar that started low on his belly and disappeared beneath the waistband of his drawers. For some reason, that scar bothered her most. She knew he'd be as virile below the waist as he was above, and the thought that he could be stripped of his masculinity in an instant made her question why he'd subject himself to that possibility.
Noting the focus of her attention, Stefan said, "Rafat had a mind to insure his position as dominate male, but he missed by a hair. I'm still very much intact."
Joanna looked up and found him smiling. "I'm sorry, but I find no humor in that," she said, irritated that he was dismissing it as little more than a bad day on the job. The sight of the ugly scars on his near perfect body alarmed her. Until now, she knew he faced danger in the big cage, but seeing the scars emphasized how powerless he could be against his animals. One swipe could eviscerate him or emasculate him or rip out his heart.
"They're old scars," he said.
"Except for the holes in your arm and the one in your leg with sixteen stitches," she clipped.
Ignoring her comment, he said, " Simba . Come." The cub followed him out the stateroom.
Watching Stefan go, Joanna
Disturbed with the direction of her thoughts, she shoved the dangerous notion aside, slipped on a sheer nightgown and crawled into bed, knowing she'd have to be up at dawn to do her exercises, coach her acrobatics students and practice with Otto and Gene, all before the afternoon and evening performances. She sighed. She wondered if it was healthy to devote so much to one thing. With that thought, she turned off the light and closed her eyes...
She had not been asleep long when she awakened, damp with perspiration, and feeling uncomfortably hot. She propped open the door to the passageway, noting as she did that Stefan's door was also propped open. Thankful for the breeze that drifted in from the opened porthole at the end of the passageway, she crawled back into bed...
Several hours later she awakened, disturbed by low gurgling sounds. She opened her eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. The noise stopped. She closed her eyes once more and turned over. The noise started again. Low gurgling rumbles. Throaty noises. PURRS!
She sat up and turned on the light. And stared into the wide tawny eyes of the tiger cub, who sat beside her bed, staring back at her. Shoving the hair from her face, she edged away slowly, pressing her back against the pillow. When she lowered her hand, the cub bounded onto the bed and pounced on top of her, his velvety body pressing against her chest, his paws on her shoulders, his rough tongue licking her chin.
" Simba ," Stefan's voice came from across the passageway. Simba !" His voice was closer. And then he was there, standing in the doorway, stripped to the waist, wearing only his drawers. " Simba , down !" he commanded. The cub jumped off the bed and crouched at Stefan's feet. Stefan looked at Joanna. "It seems you made a friend in the menagerie."
"So it does," Joanna replied, struggling to collect her thoughts as she stared at Stefan's heavily-muscled body. Her gaze zigzagged between three parallel scars on one shoulder and a ragged scar crossing his ribs, and down to a scar that started low on his belly and disappeared beneath the waistband of his drawers. For some reason, that scar bothered her most. She knew he'd be as virile below the waist as he was above, and the thought that he could be stripped of his masculinity in an instant made her question why he'd subject himself to that possibility.
Noting the focus of her attention, Stefan said, "Rafat had a mind to insure his position as dominate male, but he missed by a hair. I'm still very much intact."
Joanna looked up and found him smiling. "I'm sorry, but I find no humor in that," she said, irritated that he was dismissing it as little more than a bad day on the job. The sight of the ugly scars on his near perfect body alarmed her. Until now, she knew he faced danger in the big cage, but seeing the scars emphasized how powerless he could be against his animals. One swipe could eviscerate him or emasculate him or rip out his heart.
"They're old scars," he said.
"Except for the holes in your arm and the one in your leg with sixteen stitches," she clipped.
Ignoring her comment, he said, " Simba . Come." The cub followed him out the stateroom.
Watching Stefan go, Joanna
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