Free A Whisper of Sin by Nalini Singh Page B

can’t even smell this one,” she murmured against his lips. “Guess you’ll have to buy my perfume for me.”
    His cat purred, wondering if she realized what she’d just given away. “I’m going to buy you bubble bath, too.”
    â€œEmmett.” A moan.
    He kissed it away. “Does your door have a lock?”
    â€œYes.” She pressed her lips to the pulse in his neck. “But it’s not set.”
    Groaning, he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the door. “Do it.”
    â€œSay please.”
    He looked down into that teasing face and gave in to the urge to bite, sinking his teeth—very carefully—into the sensitive spot between shoulder and neck. She trembled, and he felt the lock turn. “How quiet?” he asked, licking over the mark as he carried her to the bed.
    â€œMy mother has ears like a bat.”
    Grinning, he dropped her lightly on the mattress, coming down on top of her as she finished the sentence. She was all soft and curvy under him, the satin of her nightgown delicious torture. He ran his hand down the side. It snagged. “Damn.” His hands were rough, calloused, nothing like her creamy flesh.
    â€œI love your hands, Emmett.” It was an intimate whisper in the night-dark of her room.
    He looked down into those intelligent eyes, and knew he was lost. Raising himself off her and to the side, he said, “I don’t want to mess up your pretty nightgown. Pull it up for me.”
    She swallowed, but her hands moved to the satin, pulling it up with slow, sensual tugs. “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”
    â€œHmm.” He cupped her knee as it was revealed, waiting for more, for everything.
    â€œYou going to mess up my interviews next time, too?”
    The sweet slope of her thigh. “Probably.” He stroked his hand up, knew he’d have to taste.
    A soft moan, her leg rising slightly, that knee bending as she rubbed her foot on the sheet. “How do you do this to me?”
    Shifting his hand fully between her legs, he cupped her.

EIGHT
    H er gasp was almost silent this time, her body rising in a sinuous curve. Tempted beyond measure, he leaned in to steal another kiss. “The same way you do it to me.” She was so damp and hot under his palm that it was all he could do not to tear off her panties and slide his fingers into liquid-soft flesh.
    Her hands tugged at his T-shirt. “Off.”
    He considered it. “I’ll have to move my hand.” And he didn’t want to.
    Ria’s lips parted. “Your eyes have gone leopard.”
    â€œI can smell you, all slick and luscious and ready.” He pressed the heel of his hand against the enticement of her, teasing, playing, caressing.
    Her eyes fluttered closed. “Emmett”—a husky order—“if you don’t get that T-shirt off, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.”
    Moving his hand with reluctance, he pulled off the T-shirt, then got rid of the rest of his clothing—he wanted no more interruptions. Ria’s eyes went wide as he came down beside her again, his hand closing over her thigh. “I want to rip off your panties.”
    Those gorgeous eyes went impossibly wider. “If you promise to buy me a replacement pair.”
    He froze, so aroused he could barely see straight. Burying his head against her neck, he breathed deep. It only twisted the coils more strongly around him. And those coils were soft, feminine, erotic beyond all measure. Fingers tensing, he tore off the scrap of fabric that had so tormented him.
    Ria arched up and he took her mouth again, addicted to the sugar and spice taste of her. Under his fingers, she was pure feminine seduction, hot and slick with need. But he wasn’t ready to end this. Continuing to play his fingers between her legs, he licked and kissed his way down her throat, and over the satin to the hollow of her breasts. Her