Read Online When the Heart Lies by Christina North - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christina North
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tree bed and threw it on her.
Her body bowed at the waist, catching the muck as if her belly were a baseball glove. She glared at him and shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”
Before he answered, he gripped her scrub top at the waist and pulled it loose. Then he swirled her hair all over head like a rat’s nest. “There. Perfect.”
Her tone became extremely calm, considering the circumstances. “What the hell…?”
“I have a plan.” He turned and walked back to the boathouse.
“Where are you going?” With her hands splayed out to her sides and stomping her feet as she walked, she pleaded for an explanation. “Why are we going back to the boathouse?”
“I need a beer.”
She followed close behind him. After grabbing a beer from the fridge, he rotated back. His chest bumped her crossed arms; he lifted his beer and leaned back to steady himself.
Her mouth hung open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He twisted the cap, took a swig, turned, and walked out. “C’mon.” After locking the door, he motioned for her to follow him. “Take your time. We have a few minutes.”
When she stopped following, he turned to her. “Just trust me.”
She scowled at him, but started moving again. Finding her stubbornness not only appealing, but arousing. He couldn’t help but imagine her bare ass naked and over his knee, but tried not to.
It wasn’t long before they got to the lake. He headed toward the small fishing dock, which stretched out over the water about fifteen feet or so.
“And where are you headed—now?” she asked, sounding like a mother who was exasperated with her child.
“I told you. I have a plan.” He set his beer bottle down on the dock and jumped in.
“Wha, what the hell are you doing?” She jumped up and down with her forearms together and peeked from behind her fists.
Out in an instant, he lifted himself from the dock, muscles rippling, dripping wet. Shaking the water from his hair like a playful pup, he smiled.
“Alligators, Jackson! What’re you thinking? You’re a fool. You belong in a mental hospital.” She raised one finger in the air as if to make a proclamation. “Yes, yes. I get it. You’re not a detective at all. You’re crazy, and you’re here on R&R.”
His head jerked backward as he laughed. “What?” He continued laughing.
She scrunched up her eyes again and pursed her lips, pissed off and awfully cute. With both fists flying, she headed for him and began earnestly beating him in the chest.
“You son of a—.”
“Whoa, so you’re a potty mouth. That makes you a bad girl.” He grasped both her wrists, wrapped his foot around her ankle, and guided her fall to the ground.
He was wet. She was dirty. And when the ground was finally beneath them, they were face-to-face. This time, when their eyes met, she stopped resisting. His mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding. He groaned when he lifted his lips from the sweet moistness. They returned to taste, again and again, lingering longer each time until he slid them sensuously from the corner of her mouth along her chin, burning a trail down her neck.
Moans escaped her, spurring him on. She wrestled and loosened her wrist from his grasp. He gripped it again, pushed it roughly down to the ground, and slowly slid his hand down her arm toward her breasts. His mouth and hand met together, caressing and nibbling her hardened nipple through the thin, moist fabric of her top. When he let her hand free, she grasped his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. As he became more aggressive, she moved her hips to meet his full hardness and gasped.
She made him crazy, in want of more, but he jumped up as if nothing had occurred. He hadn’t meant to let things get so heated and needed to put some distance between them. As much as he wanted her, he was on a job. He also needed to get her back into the building by four o’clock. Otherwise, staff breaks would be over for the night, and they’d have no way of getting
Her body bowed at the waist, catching the muck as if her belly were a baseball glove. She glared at him and shouted. “Have you lost your mind?”
Before he answered, he gripped her scrub top at the waist and pulled it loose. Then he swirled her hair all over head like a rat’s nest. “There. Perfect.”
Her tone became extremely calm, considering the circumstances. “What the hell…?”
“I have a plan.” He turned and walked back to the boathouse.
“Where are you going?” With her hands splayed out to her sides and stomping her feet as she walked, she pleaded for an explanation. “Why are we going back to the boathouse?”
“I need a beer.”
She followed close behind him. After grabbing a beer from the fridge, he rotated back. His chest bumped her crossed arms; he lifted his beer and leaned back to steady himself.
Her mouth hung open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He twisted the cap, took a swig, turned, and walked out. “C’mon.” After locking the door, he motioned for her to follow him. “Take your time. We have a few minutes.”
When she stopped following, he turned to her. “Just trust me.”
She scowled at him, but started moving again. Finding her stubbornness not only appealing, but arousing. He couldn’t help but imagine her bare ass naked and over his knee, but tried not to.
It wasn’t long before they got to the lake. He headed toward the small fishing dock, which stretched out over the water about fifteen feet or so.
“And where are you headed—now?” she asked, sounding like a mother who was exasperated with her child.
“I told you. I have a plan.” He set his beer bottle down on the dock and jumped in.
“Wha, what the hell are you doing?” She jumped up and down with her forearms together and peeked from behind her fists.
Out in an instant, he lifted himself from the dock, muscles rippling, dripping wet. Shaking the water from his hair like a playful pup, he smiled.
“Alligators, Jackson! What’re you thinking? You’re a fool. You belong in a mental hospital.” She raised one finger in the air as if to make a proclamation. “Yes, yes. I get it. You’re not a detective at all. You’re crazy, and you’re here on R&R.”
His head jerked backward as he laughed. “What?” He continued laughing.
She scrunched up her eyes again and pursed her lips, pissed off and awfully cute. With both fists flying, she headed for him and began earnestly beating him in the chest.
“You son of a—.”
“Whoa, so you’re a potty mouth. That makes you a bad girl.” He grasped both her wrists, wrapped his foot around her ankle, and guided her fall to the ground.
He was wet. She was dirty. And when the ground was finally beneath them, they were face-to-face. This time, when their eyes met, she stopped resisting. His mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding. He groaned when he lifted his lips from the sweet moistness. They returned to taste, again and again, lingering longer each time until he slid them sensuously from the corner of her mouth along her chin, burning a trail down her neck.
Moans escaped her, spurring him on. She wrestled and loosened her wrist from his grasp. He gripped it again, pushed it roughly down to the ground, and slowly slid his hand down her arm toward her breasts. His mouth and hand met together, caressing and nibbling her hardened nipple through the thin, moist fabric of her top. When he let her hand free, she grasped his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. As he became more aggressive, she moved her hips to meet his full hardness and gasped.
She made him crazy, in want of more, but he jumped up as if nothing had occurred. He hadn’t meant to let things get so heated and needed to put some distance between them. As much as he wanted her, he was on a job. He also needed to get her back into the building by four o’clock. Otherwise, staff breaks would be over for the night, and they’d have no way of getting
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