Free Twisted Desire (The Twisted Series) by Christa Simpson Page B

partially glazed side-light next to her door.
    They can hear the beginnings of a conversation right through
the door, which suggests that Aliah’s earlier ramblings were vividly clear to
their visitors.
    “I’m worried,” the man says, knowing Aliah’s on the other
side of that door.
    Harley glances down at her for some indication of who it
might be.  He doesn’t even have to ask.
    “It’s Mitchell,” Aliah mouths, clearing up any guess work.
    Harley nods and smiles, a sardonic smile.  He wants
nothing more than to chew on those kissable lips.  He could care less who
is on the other side of that door.  He has a relentless lover, who’s happy
to accept what he has to offer her.  Everything except for kisses, that
is.  On the mouth.  He’s plenty happy to kiss the rest of that body,
knowing before long she’ll be longing for the touch of his lips on hers.
    Right now though, with her naked little body wrapped up
against him, her lips have slipped to the back of his primitive mind.  His
fingers drift up the curve of her hip and smooth over the soft flesh next to a
pair of perfect tits.  He’s so very tempted to lay her out on that ceramic
floor and pummel into her with fast flicks of his pelvis until they’re both
swept up in a mindless release.
    Then a woman adds her two cents to the conversation
happening on the other side of the door, and it tears him from his daydreams in
an instant.
    “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you.  She would
come to the door if she did.  Get the hint, Mitchell.”  Her voice is
snappy.  She isn’t happy to be there.
    Mitchell puts his fist to the door one last time. 
“Come on, Ally.  I know you’re in there.  Open up.”
    “Enough!” Brandee shouts.  “Leave them alone.”
    Them?   Shit.  Brandee knows Aliah has
company.  How could she know that?  He doesn’t know Brandee Hawkins
very well, but anyone with such an unhealthy paranoia is guaranteed to lead
into a bad situation.  Does she know it’s him there with Aliah?
    That woman is nuts.  Harley hopes Mitchell takes the
nut bag’s advice and gets her out of there.  He’s worried that Brandee’s
fixation on Cavanagh’s sex life has already become more of a fixation on Aliah.
    “Let’s go!” Brandee shouts, and it sounds like they’re
finally leaving.
    Forgetting about that, and living in the moment, Harley
lifts Aliah’s mostly-naked body into his arms and carries her up the stairs,
plunging them deeper into the darkness of her unlit house.
    “Where am I going?” he asks her.
    She slaps at him.  “Put me down.”
    “I’m not putting you down.  So why don’t you point the
way?”
    Aliah kicks and squirms, but soon realizes that she isn’t
going to break free from his grip of death.  She points a finger and he
takes a direct route to her room, lit only by the sliver of moon beaming
through her windows.  He brings her to the bedroom and lowers her body,
until she’s slumped at the foot of her bed.  Aliah just stares up at him,
not quite sure what’s going to happen between them.
    “I’m not about to make you do anything you don’t want to
do.”
    She grabs onto his waistband, her fingers dipping inside his
pants.  “Do you hear me complaining?”
    “Every step of the way.”
    Aliah scowls at him.  “Fine, then.  What do you
want to do?”
    His chuckle is dark and seductive.  “I’ll give you two
options.  One: You tell me to get the hell out of here and I will leave
right this minute.  Or two: Get up on that bed and spread your pretty
little legs for me.”
     

CHAPTER
EIGHT

    When Harley asks for a silent invitation, her legs
involuntarily part for him.  That voice is a weapon.  Her body aches
for him before it even knows what it’s missing.  She hopes he’ll just
strip from his t-shirt and jeans and show her exactly what she’s working
with.  He doesn’t.
    He loses his shirt in a matter of seconds.  For that
she is grateful.  She can’t take her