Free The Protector of Ambra (Mercenaries of Fortune, #5) by Lyn Brittan

was stupid and wild and yet, when he brought her chin up in silent question, she nodded immediately.
    Pierce snapped her up, crushing her breasts between them. When he lifted her shirt over her head, her chest burned with humiliation. She wasn’t perfect or svelte by anyone’s measurement, except for maybe his. When she opened her eyes, he looked at her like a starved man. “You are perfection.”
    He must have slept with a hundred other women in his life, but she kinda doubted he’d ever looked at them how he looked at her. How could he? After twenty-four hours, they’d done more together than people who’d been dating for years. Their situation was unique, to say the least.
    It hit her then that he had seen all of her. He’d stitched her up and she hadn’t felt a thing. He’d been gentle in the worst of moments. Her last one-night stand had been over five years ago. She’d earned this one.
    Pierce was smooth and hard in all the right places. And a magician too. One second she was up on a log, the next, he had her down, pinned to the earth with one hand while struggling to undo her grandma bra with the other. “This is some contraption you’ve got here.”
    She snorted and slammed her eyes shut, laughing quietly through her mortification. “Let me. Are we pretending that you haven’t tackled it once already?”
    “Shit.” He jumped up and pulled her into his lap. “Your shoulder—”
    “Is fine. Not that I hate this position either.” She straddled him, wiggling down until he groaned against his throat.
    “I kinda want to do a savage thing and rip this bra right off.”
    “Not on this bumpy road. Can you...imagine...”
    He didn’t look like he imagined anything. The second her breasts were free, his eyes locked on them. His hands followed and soon his lips, to her supreme delight.
    Her world could be no more heavenly than this. Here she was, half naked, surrounded by the forests and warm cocoa scents that gave her life, with a man writhing beneath her who seemed to crumble at the sight of her.
    “You sure, Melody?”
    She grabbed hold of him, rigid between her legs and for the first time in ages, took something just for herself.

Chapter Twelve
    P ierce buried the used condom and tossed the wrapper in the back of the jeep. There wasn’t much else back there, but he consolidated everything they might need into one bag. If a quick exit was required, he might only have a second to grab the antique that had started this magnificent mess.
    He cared about the Olmec piece less and less by the second. He ran his thumb over the wrapped edges with the full knowledge that he’d rather be touching Melody.
    Every few seconds, he’d turn to watch her dress. Her body was still flushed from their lovemaking. Hell, so was his. Just the thought of her was enough to tighten his belly and make his cock twitch again.
    “You’re staring.”
    “Can’t help it. I wasn’t too rough with you, yeah? Your shoulder? If you need more...it’s a cutting edge local nerve blocker, but—”
    She zipped her pants and toed the log. “If I say yes, will you promise to do it again? After this patch of hair grows back, ya know.” While his face burned with legitimate regret, she wiggled her finger in the air. “Kidding. What are you doing over there? I wasn’t enough? Now you’re playing with your bag of tricks again?”
    “Just checking supplies. Everything we need to survive is right in here.”
    Leaning against the jeep, he held out his hands until she took them in hers. He drew her close, tasting her and reigniting a passion they didn’t have time to properly quench. “When this is over, we’re going to try that in a bed.”
    “You were supposed to be my one-night stand,” she said with lips that brushed along the side of his neck. “Two night, maybe.”
    “We could shoot for more.” He backed away, knowing full well that if this continued, their window of opportunity would close.
    While he had her here, he