Free Temporary Mistress by Susan Johnson Page B

where he'd discarded it, as if she might discern the degree of his desire for the dark-haired woman if she catalogued the location of the garments. And she experienced an uncharitable pleasure in the fact that he stood across the room from the bed.
    "Do come here, Dermott," the pretty brunette murmured, her voice seductive, her voluptuous form elegantly disposed on the crimson silk coverlet.
    "Soon." Lifting his glass to his mouth, he tossed it down and turned back to the well-stocked table.
    "You said that a half hour ago."
    "I have a thirst after talking business with Shelby since morning." He gently smiled. "Be patient, darling."
    "You're restless tonight."
    "I'm not restless." He added another inch to his glass, topping it off. "I just feel like drinking." Turning back to her, he raised his glass in salute.
    "Should I read to you while you drink? I've a new novel."
    "Later," he politely murmured, moving toward a chair near the fire. Dropping into it, he slid into a lounging sprawl, tipped the glass to his mouth, and swallowed half the brandy like a man intent on getting drunk.
    "Did Shelby annoy you?"
    He shook his head. "He's too damned polite to annoy anyone. Remarkable," he added with a half-smile, "considering his heritage. That whole damned family is demented. He must be a by-blow."
    "Should I go to sleep?" She spoke with a pouting moue, her voice velvety and low.
    He gazed at her through narrowed eyes. "Have I ever disappointed you?"
    She smiled. "You're a damned beautiful sight, Bathurst, that's all. I crave your body."
    The firelight gilded his bronzed form, the heavy muscles of his chest and shoulders prominent, his long, powerful legs, strong arms, and hands arresting to the eye. His face was more handsome than God should allow—the perfectly modeled bone structure, fine, straight nose, sensual mouth, his dark, heavily lashed eyes so seductive, a single look could lure a woman to destruction. And not to be discounted among his lavish attributes was his distinguished arousal conspicuous even under black breeches in dim light.
    "Another half bottle and you'll have what you crave."
    "Promises, promises," she playfully replied, rolling off the bed in a lithe, smooth movement. "Maybe I'll indulge myself another way," she purred, moving toward him.
    "Be my guest," he offered, leaning over to reach for the brandy bottle. "I'm completely at your disposal."
    "Not completely—yet…" she murmured, dropping to her knees and sliding between his outstretched legs. She touched the top button of his breeches, sliding her finger over the engraved silver. "But soon," she whispered, slipping the first button free.
    "You have a charming way about you," he softly said, half smiling in the firelight.
    "And you have what I want." Another button came free and yet a third.
    "Now, this is so much better than the dull farm reports that filled my day." He gazed down at her and faintly winked.
    "While I've been waiting for
this
all day," she whispered, opening the last button and reaching inside his open breeches to draw out his erection.
    He drew in a sharp breath at the touch of her hand.
    Isabella did as well at the sight of him.
    He was magnificent—immense, towering, flagrantly rigid.
    Isabella put her hand over her mouth to curtail her exclamation of astonishment. Her body throbbed with added intensity, the heat rising to her face bringing a sheen to her forehead, and she wondered how it would feel to lie with him, to absorb the enormity of what she saw.
    She could scarcely breathe as the woman slid her fingers down his great length, the upthrust head of his arousal stretching, gleaming in the firelight, its size visibly enlarging.
    Draining his glass of brandy, Dermott set it aside, leaned his head back, and shut his eyes at the moment Kate's mouth touched him.
    He should refuse, he transiently thought, aware of why he was so restless, of why he hadn't wanted to join Kate in bed. But her mouth was drawing him in and he wasn't