Read Online Powder of Love (I) by Summer Devon - Free Book Online

walked in.
    He closed his eyes. He’d cheated—badly—by touching that box, and perhaps by not believing her story. And now he’d pay a price by surviving this visit without betraying symptoms. He must treat her with respect. That did not include ripping off her clothing, flinging her across the top of the desk, and driving into her. Or even picturing that possibility. But no, now that picture of her panting, naked, under him, was lodged in him, brain and body.
    “Are you unwell, Mr. Reed? You look slightly flushed.”
    He’d have to open his eyes and see her in the flesh. See her skin, her pink and lovely face, neck, and those delicate hands that had been so surprisingly powerful in his, returning his grip. Her skin, but not enough of it. Why did women wear so many layers of useless clothing? “I’m fine,” he croaked. “Erm. Your companion. She is well?”
    Miss Renshaw had been made ill by the box, Miss Ambermere had said in passing, and now he knew the companion had touched the box too, perhaps even done more. Dear Lord, he was torn between pity for her and the desire to collapse with laughter at the thought of the poor woman, helpless in the grip of unabated hunger. Unabated, perhaps. The image of her naked, out of control and in heat with some man intrigued him—the powder had control of all Reed’s responses. But that image didn’t seem to add to the bottomless, howling need that flowed through his body.
    Miss Ambermere’s voice, low and musical, was what stoked that need. “I don’t believe you’re listening. I asked if you thought any of these men were more qualified than the others.”
    After a moment, he comprehended the meaning of her words and looked at the list of scientists rather than at her. The sight of her seated at the far side of the big desk might prove too much. The focus of all his body’s cravings so close to him. He pulled in a deep breath and managed to draw his mind back from the flood of need. This was important. “I didn’t take the time to study their qualifications, I’m afraid.”
    And then he knew he had to confess—some of the truth, at any rate. “I didn’t truly understand. I didn’t know…” His hoarse voice trailed off.
    “Ah. Mr. Reed?”
    His name in her mouth sent him close to the edge. He’d give in to the urge to look at her because perhaps she was calling him, asking him to go to her at last. He fisted his hands to stop from lunging. “Hmm?” He managed something like a growl.
    “You understand now? What has changed?” She gave him a sharp glare, and unbelievably, she stood and swayed toward him. Yes, come to me now , he wanted to shout. He had to take his lip between his teeth and bite down hard to stop himself from spreading his arms to invite her embrace. He had to look away.
    Skirts rustling, closer, but then she stopped short of his chair, at the desk.
    So near him, her back slightly to him. Those curves. He could reach out now. Touch her. Seize her. How would it be to shove up that dress, find that useless bustle, throw it away, and sink into her from behind. At last. Would her skin be cool against his heated body? Not cool inside. The heat deep inside her, her cunny, her cunt, her sweet womanly parts. And the tender flesh of her inner thighs, invisible under that dratted, thick cloth.
    Her curls bounced as she rattled the desk. Yes, that’s how they’d bounce when he’d thrust—
    “The drawer is still locked.” She turned to face him.
    He was having trouble catching his breath, and her steady gaze, fixed on him, didn’t help. “I don’t understand,” she said in a faltering voice. Her cheeks reddened as she looked into his face.
    Maybe she caught sight of the fierce, barely controlled hunger raging in him. More likely she was embarrassed by what she thought was her own false accusation. Her pink cheeks set off the brightness of her eyes.
    He held back the cry of let me teach you to understand.
    Instead he dug into his jacket pocket