Read Online Remember Me (Storm Lords Book 1) by Nina Croft - Free Book Online
Authors: Nina Croft
Ads: Link
rrr.
She forced her hungry gaze away and stabbed her fingers onto the keys, not caring that the word s that came out were gibberish. She had no story anyway. Three days of this torture and she had nothing to show for it. Either Stormlord Securities was clean, or Caden Wolfe was way too clever for her and had covered his tracks. She suspected a bit of both , but over the past few days, she’d watched him closely and had come to respect the way he worked. And she hoped, deep inside, that she wouldn’t find her story.
She wanted him to be good and that scared her—her job had always come first.
Maybe she should g ive up, pack up, and head home. There was nothing for her here.
Except Cade.
He was driving her crazy. Oh, he had kept his word. He hadn’t touched her. But he was teasing her, tormenting her. He was always taking off bits of clothing—well his jacket and ti e anyway—and unbuttoning buttons. He would come and to sit beside her, or prop himself on the edge of her desk, his long, lean thigh within touching distance, or lurk behind her while she was typing.
Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was doing. It was clear in his eyes, taunting her with the knowledge that all she had to do was ask.
So many times the words had hovered on the edge of her tongue, and she was getting tired of fighting it.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she was unaware of him standing direc tly behind her until his warm masculine scent teased her nostrils. He leaned over her shoulder; his hands on the desk, his arms braced on either side of her, not quite touching, but close enough so if she tilted her head, she would touch him.
“Phoebe.” His voice, low and husky, caressed her ears, his breath feathering against the sensitive skin at the back of her neck, sending tiny quivers rippling down her spine.
Okay. Enough .
She slammed down the lid of her laptop.
She knew when she was beaten. As she sil ently acknowledged her defeat, the tight knot inside her unraveled and a fire burst into life, sizzling along her nerves, settling low down in her belly.
For a minute, she sat staring down at the desktop.
Then she straightened and leaned back, so her head rested against the smooth silk of his shirt. Behind her, he went still. She sat for a minute savoring her defeat, then she swiveled her chair around, forcing him to straighten.
Tipping her head back, she looked up into his face. The hard lines were tense, but something flickered in his dark eyes. Hope? Need? The same need that was burning in her veins. Why not give them what they both craved?
“Touch me,” she murmured.
Shock flashed across his features. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they blazed with triumph. “You’re sure?”
His words made her pause. When had things gotten so intense between them? It didn’t seem real. Was the emotion for her? Or wa s he still pining for some other woman? But she’d waited too long to protest. He straightened and brought his hands down on her shoulders, held her gaze as he slid them down her body to cup her breasts.
He squeezed, and a wave of pleasure rolled through he r, then he rubbed the stiffening nipples, and she was lost.
Plucking open the buttons of her shirt, he slid one hand inside, under the lace of her bra, and pinched one tight peak.
“Oh God,” she groaned under her breath as he tugged the nipple between his t humb and finger and pinched again.
He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, what made her body burn as though they’d done this a hundred times before. Leaning close, his lips caressed the side of her neck, his warm breath teasing her skin. “Phoebe.”
Her whispered name drove the last of her doubts away. She turned her face so his lips met hers, and he kissed her as though he was starving and only she could satisfy him. Kissed her until her head was spinning, and she was filled with a sense of rightness.
W ith her last remnants of reason, she tried to tell herself this was purely
She forced her hungry gaze away and stabbed her fingers onto the keys, not caring that the word s that came out were gibberish. She had no story anyway. Three days of this torture and she had nothing to show for it. Either Stormlord Securities was clean, or Caden Wolfe was way too clever for her and had covered his tracks. She suspected a bit of both , but over the past few days, she’d watched him closely and had come to respect the way he worked. And she hoped, deep inside, that she wouldn’t find her story.
She wanted him to be good and that scared her—her job had always come first.
Maybe she should g ive up, pack up, and head home. There was nothing for her here.
Except Cade.
He was driving her crazy. Oh, he had kept his word. He hadn’t touched her. But he was teasing her, tormenting her. He was always taking off bits of clothing—well his jacket and ti e anyway—and unbuttoning buttons. He would come and to sit beside her, or prop himself on the edge of her desk, his long, lean thigh within touching distance, or lurk behind her while she was typing.
Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was doing. It was clear in his eyes, taunting her with the knowledge that all she had to do was ask.
So many times the words had hovered on the edge of her tongue, and she was getting tired of fighting it.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she was unaware of him standing direc tly behind her until his warm masculine scent teased her nostrils. He leaned over her shoulder; his hands on the desk, his arms braced on either side of her, not quite touching, but close enough so if she tilted her head, she would touch him.
“Phoebe.” His voice, low and husky, caressed her ears, his breath feathering against the sensitive skin at the back of her neck, sending tiny quivers rippling down her spine.
Okay. Enough .
She slammed down the lid of her laptop.
She knew when she was beaten. As she sil ently acknowledged her defeat, the tight knot inside her unraveled and a fire burst into life, sizzling along her nerves, settling low down in her belly.
For a minute, she sat staring down at the desktop.
Then she straightened and leaned back, so her head rested against the smooth silk of his shirt. Behind her, he went still. She sat for a minute savoring her defeat, then she swiveled her chair around, forcing him to straighten.
Tipping her head back, she looked up into his face. The hard lines were tense, but something flickered in his dark eyes. Hope? Need? The same need that was burning in her veins. Why not give them what they both craved?
“Touch me,” she murmured.
Shock flashed across his features. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they blazed with triumph. “You’re sure?”
His words made her pause. When had things gotten so intense between them? It didn’t seem real. Was the emotion for her? Or wa s he still pining for some other woman? But she’d waited too long to protest. He straightened and brought his hands down on her shoulders, held her gaze as he slid them down her body to cup her breasts.
He squeezed, and a wave of pleasure rolled through he r, then he rubbed the stiffening nipples, and she was lost.
Plucking open the buttons of her shirt, he slid one hand inside, under the lace of her bra, and pinched one tight peak.
“Oh God,” she groaned under her breath as he tugged the nipple between his t humb and finger and pinched again.
He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, what made her body burn as though they’d done this a hundred times before. Leaning close, his lips caressed the side of her neck, his warm breath teasing her skin. “Phoebe.”
Her whispered name drove the last of her doubts away. She turned her face so his lips met hers, and he kissed her as though he was starving and only she could satisfy him. Kissed her until her head was spinning, and she was filled with a sense of rightness.
W ith her last remnants of reason, she tried to tell herself this was purely
Similar Books
