Read Online Something Reckless by Jess Michaels - Free Book Online Page A

with a start. He was only teasing her. Like they were close. Like they were friends.
    But were they? Could they ever be?
    “Very well, forgive me,” Jeremy said with a gallant bow. “I shall not torment you any further. If you wish to keep your counsel on the letter, I won’t force your confidence. I merely hopedthat I had ferreted out some weakness in you, my dear. If someone of your stature has one, it might give me hope that I may one day overcome my own.”
    Penelope stared at him. Was he still toying with her, or was he, in some part, serious? The man was so utterly confusing, she wasn’t certain what to think of him at any given time.
    “I have many weaknesses, Jeremy,” she whispered.
    His smile fell. “You would not be human if you did not.”
    He reached for her and caught her hand before she could draw it away. He lifted it to his lips and brushed a featherlight kiss across her knuckles. She jolted at the firm contact of his warm lips against her skin. She had a sudden urge to feel them in other places. All over her.
    With a jolt, she snatched her hand away and drew it up to her suddenly heaving breast. “Good-bye, Jeremyer, Your Grace,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing.
    One dark brow arched. “Until later, Lady Norman. Enjoy your letter.”
    Then he released her and backed from the room. Once he was gone, Penelope sank into the nearest chair. Her legs were trembling and her stomach was doing flip-flops. It didn’t matter that it was utterly stupid or that she still wasn’t certain she could trust Jeremy Vaughn; something about him still shook her. Moved her from her foundation. Made her question herself.
    Much like the letter writer did. Penelope pulled the missive from behind her back and stared at the swirling handwriting. What would he write to her tonight? What fantasies would he weave?
    And would she be strong enough to resist their pull?
    She already knew the answer to that question, even before she broke the wax seal and unfolded the pages. She didn’t possess that kind of strength. Before the end of the night, she knew full well she would be writhing in her bed alone, thinking of the author’s words, remembering the wicked things she’d seen at the Cyprian’s ball…
    And picturing Jeremy’s face all the while.
    With a sigh, she began to read:
    Dear Penelope:
    If you were mine, I would spend an eternity simply touching your skin. And then I would spend another tasting you all over…

Six
    Penelope sat on her bed, staring at a small pile of letters that she had placed there. Their presence mocked her. Tormented her.
    They were all letters from him , her mysterious admirer who wanted to do such wicked things to her. Each night for a week, they had arrived at exactly the same hour. In fact, Penelope had become so accustomed to receiving them that when the time grew near, she found herself watching the door and waiting for the next missive. She grew restless and dull until she held the folded sheets of expensive paper in her hands.
    I want to take you , Penelope. Hard and fast. Slow and easy…
    Each one detailed more and more about the author’s fantasies about her. In truth, they had become her fantasies, as well. She’d read his pointed, poetic, and often pornographic words so many times that she could summon every sentence from memory without even trying.
    And I want you to want me as desperately as I crave you…
    Some of the letters had concentrated on what her admirer wished to do to her in detail. She had been forced to think about nights where this faceless man simply kissed every inch of her body. Of his hands and fingers stroking over every curve and invading every hidden, forbidden crevice. And finally, of the crescendo of him taking her in every position imaginable…and some she hadn’t even thought possible.
    Would you surrender if I pressed you to a bed and opened you wide for my touch? Do you ever imagine I am doing so?
    But some of the letters had been less blatant