The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2

Read Online The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2 by Pippa Croft - Free Book Online Page B

Book: The Second Time I Saw You: The Oxford Blue Series #2 by Pippa Croft Read Free Book Online
Authors: Pippa Croft
Ads: Link
thigh, pushing up my skirt. ‘Alexander, I don’t think this is the greatest idea.’
    ‘I do. If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve had quite a day and I need to forget it.’ He pulls my skirt up and his hand snakes between my legs. I’m turned on, even though he’s drunk and someone might come into the room. I make a pitiful attempt to stop him, clamping my fingersaround his wrist, but despite the whisky, he’s strong and I
can’t
lie, I want him too. It’s been a hell of day for me too and I find myself kissing him back, my sheer lust for his body obliterating everything else. He tugs my blouse impatiently out of my skirt and his hands are all over my back, fumbling with my bra strap.
    He frowns at me. ‘What the –’
    ‘It’s front-fastening.’
    He pulls his hand from my blouse and starts to attack the buttons.
    ‘Hey …’ I reach for his hand but it’s too late and one of my buttons pings off and bounces off something as he almost tears my blouse open. I moan with pleasure as he snaps the fastening of my bra open and bares my breasts.
    Something in his eyes changes and he reaches for the bottle from the table.
    ‘Hey, no!’
    He lifts the bottle pours several hundred dollars worth of single malt over my breasts.
    ‘Alexander!’ My cry is loud as my white blouse turns amber and the whisky runs down my cleavage. ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘This.’ His mouth descends on my chest and he starts licking the whisky from my breasts. He closes his mouth around my nipple, sucking it hard, and I cry out in pain and pleasure. I push my breasts together into his face and, for a second, I think I can hear voices outside the door but they move on. I’m past caring anyway; thisfeels like the wickedest thing I’ve ever done. It’s so, so wrong, so why do I want him more than I’ve ever done?
    I climb off his lap and pull my panties down. His eyes devour me and he starts to fumble with the zip on his trousers.
    I throw my panties on the sofa and close my hand over his. ‘Here, let me.’
    I loosen the knot on his tie and pull it over his head, trying to blot out the fact I’m about to have sex with a man in mourning clothes.
    Alexander leans back against the chair, his hands hanging limply over the edge of the armrests, with his trousers around his thighs. He licks his lips as I strip off my whisky-stained blouse and shimmy out of my skirt. I climb into his lap and straddle him, and he rests his hands lightly on my waist.
    I kiss him softly, savouring the bittersweet malt on his lips. When I stop, he looks at me. ‘Lauren?’
    ‘Uh-huh?’
    ‘I loved him, you know. Despite the fact he was an awkward sod and he blamed me for my mother’s death. I did actually love the old bastard.’
    ‘I know,’ I say.
    ‘And from now on, I think we should be honest with each other. No more shecrets.’
    ‘No more shecrets, eh?’
    ‘No. I think we should be absholutely honest with each other.’
    ‘Absholutely honest?’
    ‘Are you laughing at me?’ I think he’s trying to intimidate me but it’s more glazed than glare.
    ‘I wouldn’t dream of it.’ Boy, am I glad he probably won’t remember any of this in the morning, after what Emma confided in me earlier.
    ‘Close your eyesh …’ he says and I obey, happy to move on from a tacit agreement I can’t keep and he probably has no intention of so doing.
    His breathing gets louder as I wait for him to kiss me again or touch my breasts. I clench my bottom and wriggle against his thighs, still waiting. When nothing happens, and his hands drop from my waist, I open my eyes. His lashes flutter once or twice against his cheek before he passes out cold.
    Getting dressed was simple; getting Alexander’s trousers zipped up again wasn’t. I’d half hoped he’d wake up but maybe it’s far better he’s unconscious and out of his misery temporarily. At least he still had his shirt on or I’d have had a hell of a time explaining that to Robert, because I had to call

Similar Books

Diamonds and Cole

Micheal Maxwell

Sorrow's Crown

Tom Piccirilli

A Room to Die In

Jack Vance, Ellery Queen

The Red Queen

Isobelle Carmody

Promise Me

Harlan Coben