Read Online Tangled Web by Jade C. Jamison - Free Book Online Page A

a sweet, woody, salty smell, but up close his
scent was an aphrodisiac, and his tongue tasted like he smelled,
but sweeter, even when mixed with the leftover remnants of beer.
She felt the chemical response of her body, her blood flowing
through her veins delivering mood-enhancing drugs, so she felt
relaxed but alert and eager as hell.
    She heard the CD tray switch over from Nine
Inch Nails to Korn, and the back of her mind registered that Johnny
had never indicated he was throwing Korn in his deejay mix. She
heard the slow, gentle rising tones of soft drums and cymbals,
followed by Jonathan Davis’s crying bagpipes as “Dead” began
playing in the background. She couldn’t give it any conscious
thought, though, as Johnny pressed her back up against the door,
leaving no space between their two bodies. She felt her pulse
quicken, her breathing deepen. His kisses were persistent and firm,
his hands holding her at her hips. What little thought she had left
was focused on the fact that this was a moment she had actually
dreamed of for more than fifteen years.
    And so it was no surprise that, by instinct,
her hands had found their way to the back of his neck, as though
holding it in her hands would make him stay. An irrational thought,
she knew, but she started questioning if this was really happening. Just enjoy the moment , she told herself, as she slid her
fingers up through his hair. She’d known Johnny for most of her
life and had never run her fingers through his hair, and now she
desperately wanted to. It did feel like a possessive move, like his
hair between her fingers would stop him from leaving. All it did
was make her want more; she wanted to feel every part of his body,
not with a friend’s hands, but a lover’s. And, having fulfilled one
wish, her hands then slid back down his neck, drifting down his
chest, to the bottom of his shirt. Her palms found their way to his
stomach, and then glided back up, pulling his shirt up with her
hands. It was at that moment that she decided that, if she had any
say in the matter, they would not stop until he had been inside
her. Just kissing him and running her fingers through his hair
would not be enough. Her fingertips felt each muscular ridge of his
torso on their journey back up. He was ripped, not an ounce of fat
on him. She’d had no idea. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been
so thin, so wasted, emaciated. She knew now, though, that the years
in between he’d taken care of himself, just like he’d promised.
    When his shirt made its way past his pecs,
Johnny raised up his arm, grabbing the bunched up fabric with his
right hand, and pulled it over his head. Their heads parted, but
Katie couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. What if this wasn’t
real? After their lips met again, Johnny’s then left hers to begin
moving down Katie’s neck, and he dropped the shirt to the floor.
She felt herself quiver and moan softly as Johnny found what was
likely her most erogenous zone, the area of her neck an inch below
her ear, heading toward her chin. He continued kissing her, making
his way lower toward her cleavage. Her lips brushed his forehead,
and his hair tickled her nose. His hands moved up from her waist to
her breasts, cupping them for a moment, but continuing up even
farther. She felt the fingers of both his hands around the top
button of her satin blouse. His kisses just above that area
continued, moist, tender, and warm. He pulled back, and Katie
didn’t know if he was inspired or simply fumbling with the blouse,
but finally he grabbed both sides of the blouse just above her
breasts and pulled the two sides apart. The buttons couldn’t take
the pressure and popped off as her blouse ripped apart. She could
feel his animal strength, and even though she should have been
angry that he’d ruined her blouse, she instead found herself more
excited and she gasped. Johnny was taking charge--he knew what he
wanted, and he was going to take it, couldn’t even be