Free Stone and Earth by Cindy Spencer Pape Page B

squeezed her legs, felt them close around a pair of thighs as hard as the rock around the pool. Her gaze flew upward to meet a pair of intent, hooded gray eyes.
     
    “Hello, there, ma petite . Feel better now?”
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    Damien rang the bell, but when he didn’t get an answer, he used the numeric code on the mayor’s directions and let himself into the building. He didn’t think his landlady was expecting him until tomorrow, so it was entirely possible she wasn’t home. The spacious but plain foyer showed two mailboxes. Both had names on them, one of which he recognized as belonging to the owner of the building. He tried his key on that door, and was relieved when it opened.
     
    “Hello,” he called out, loudly. No answer. So he moved all the way in. The living area, great room, or whatever clearly occupied about two-thirds of the available space, soaring all three stories from front to back of the building. Perfect! The furniture was oversized and comfortable-looking, even for someone his size. Rich earth-toned rugs covered the floors and paintings in bright geometric shapes were scattered about the walls. Lush oversized plants bloomed in heavy earthenware pots. Yeah, he could live here.
     
    The other third was sectioned into two separate floors, the upper one supported by heavy steel and concrete pilings. He peeked through open doors on the first story, found an office area and a bathroom, then the kitchen was in the back corner, open to the great room. A wide concrete stairway led to the upper-story balcony, which had two doors leading off it. Bedrooms, most likely. From there a spiral stair led to a door that had to open onto the roof.
     
    He wandered up the stairs and realized the rooftop door was ajar. His curiosity aroused, he stepped outside—and into Eden.
     
    How could such a garden be growing on a Philadelphia rooftop—in the middle of winter? There was no breeze and though the air was cool, it was much warmer than it had been down on the street. Lush plant life surrounded him. The garden was softly lit by small glowing lights suspended from the trees and shrubs and glowing orbs set into the ground. From behind a row of shrubs—holly bushes by their waxy leaves and red berries—he heard the sound of running water.
     
    Walking softly, Damien rounded the leafy barrier and stopped dead in his tracks paralyzed by the sight that met his eyes.
     
    What appeared to be a natural stone grotto was tucked into a corner of the roof, almost completely surrounded by shrubs and trees. A hot tub burbled in the stone depression, warm and inviting. But not as inviting as its occupant. Lounging with her head thrown back against the rock, long mahogany hair streaming in the water around her, was the most beautiful woman Damien had ever seen. And she was naked. Beautifully, gloriously naked.
     
    Full, high breasts rode right at the waterline, their softness floating just enough on the surface that he could see the silver clamps attached to each of her big, berry-brown nipples. Her hands were both below the water, but he could see her arms moving at the shoulder and he could guess what she was doing by the flush on her cheeks and the soft moans that emerged from her full rosy lips.
     
    She didn’t see or hear him approach, so rapt was she in her act of self-pleasure. Damien felt the zipper on his leather pants strain against the sudden expansion of his cock. She was stunning. Riveting. She might possibly not be the most technically beautiful woman he’d met, but gods above, she was the single sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
     
    Damien knew what he was doing was a cosmically bad idea. All she had to do was open her eyes, then scream and his life as he knew it would be over. There’d be no more career in law enforcement for a sex-crime offender. And yet he did it anyway. There was simply no way—not in Heaven, not on Earth, damn sure not in Hell—that he could resist the temptation before him. He