Read Online Within This Frame by Lindy Zart - Free Book Online Page B

walked around her, sending prickles of awareness down her spine with his nearness, and stopped in front of her. “Take off your shirt,” he ordered.
    The command sent desire coursing through her, and she gritted her teeth against it. She would not be wooed by him, intentionally or otherwise. Maggie refused to find him attractive and she would remain firm in the face of his animal magnetism—all while secretly lusting after him.
    “Are you crazy?” she demanded in a tight voice.
    He fingered the hem of her top, a thoughtful frown on his lush mouth. “Not at the moment.” He looked up, features hardening. “Do it.”
    “I will not.”
    “Do it or I will.” Menace was woven through his words and reflected in the shards of blue glass that passed for eyes.
    Heart thundering in her chest, Maggie tried to breathe, only a gasp of pitiful air leaving her. “Try it and die.”
    The sensual mouth turned inflexible, and instead of intimidating her, she remembered the feel of it against her mouth, her body. He’d turned her inside out with that mouth. She shouldn’t be able to recall such a thing, but there it was. Maggie fought to swallow, her lips and mouth dry. All of her was rigid with longing for a man she told herself she loathed. The body was quick to call one a liar, when needed.
    “Gladly.”
    And just like that, her arms were over her head, the material of the shirt twisted around her before it was dragged up and off, and she stood before Lance in nothing but her uni-boob bra. To say that she was mortified would be a drastic under-exaggeration. She was beyond that. He was seeing the top half of her body in a way he hadn’t in close to a dozen years. Oh, how it had changed within that time span. Pudgy, fleshy, pale skin. Maggie wanted to hang her head in shame, so she instead lifted her chin defiantly and met his gaze.
    Half of his mouth curved at the silent challenge. He didn’t move or look away. Lance placed a hand over his mouth as he studied her chest with avid interest. She saw no revulsion in his expression, but then, she wouldn’t, if he didn’t want her to. Lance was a talented actor.
    Lance touched one of the straps, his fingers drawing across the sensitive flesh of her shoulder. She closed her eyes, pulse picking up, and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. His hand lingered, and Maggie stood still, wanting him to move away and wanting him to move closer. When she couldn’t stand the paused moment any longer, she opened her eyes. Lance watched her, face bleeding emotion like raindrops of sorrow and pain. She blinked, and it was gone, his expression closed.
    He went behind her, near enough that she sensed the heat of his body, felt his words as well as heard them. “This should be outlawed. What do you call this, a form of torture under the guise of a sports bra? How can you stand it? I hurt just looking at it.”
    Lance stopped before her, movements brisk as he touched and prodded along the bottom of the bra, inches away from her breasts. He snapped and tugged, shaking his head as he examined the garment. The material was flimsy enough that it was obvious that she was cold, and she was. Cold. Nothing else.
    He looked at her. “Are all of your sports bras this nipple death trap?”
    An unintelligible sound left her. “Nipple . . . death . . . trap?”
    Impatiently gesturing to her chest, he said, “Yes. Look at them. They’re crying out to be released. Poor things. And your breasts—why are you being so cruel to them? They need to breathe, Maggie. Be kind to your body. More importantly, be kind to your boobs.”
    Mouth hanging open, feeling oddly, properly chastised, Maggie blinked and straightened. “Well . . . well . . . I don’t wear this that much.” Why was she defending herself? Why was he making her feel it was necessary to defend herself?
    “Even once is too much,” he said concernedly. “I think, for the benefit of future you, you should remove it. Now. Immediately.” The