Read Spice It Up - an erotic novella for Free Online Page A

the image of the bad boy Orlando waving it about, or retaliate at the hussy label that had just been hung round her neck. Or carry on opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish, which was about right considering the amount of water on her head. A lone ice cube plopped onto the plate in front of her.

Chapter Four
    Crying was always an option. Or screaming. The woman stomped off across the room, leaving a draught of cold air. A droplet of water was just about to drip from the end of her nose and she caught it with her tongue, then glanced up through her sodden fringe at Lucas. The corners of his mouth were twitching.
    ‘Don’t you dare!’
    His eyes were laughing even if he’d got his mouth under control. But suddenly she couldn’t help it. She started to laugh, and he joined in.
    ‘Orlando?’
    ‘My brother.’
    ‘And he was waving about …?’
    ‘His dick.’ His mouth was curved in a smile, but his face was serious as his gaze wandered over her.
    ‘Ah. Perfect end to the day, I’d say.’ She flicked the wet hair up over the top of her head. ‘Your ex-sister-in-law tried to run me off the road, you try and choke me with your tapas, and now the señorita from hell half drowns me.’
    ‘You have such a way with words.’ He leant across and wiped her face gently with his napkin. ‘But I can think of a much more perfect end to the day.’ His voice had somehow dropped to a level that reverberated straight through her, and the look on his face was pure hunger as his gaze drifted down to her cashmere jumper, which was now hugging her breasts and nipples as though it was a second skin. Her stomach felt empty. She shivered; that water had been fucking cold. Iced to perfection. It was the water, not the look, that was making her feel on edge.
    ‘Come on.’ He was on his feet, holding his hand out. ‘My place is round the corner, let’s get you dry.’
    ‘Who was that?’
    ‘Spanish mamás are always matchmaking. Forget it.’
    ‘Forget it, really?’ Easy for him to say. Forget, while ice-cold water is trickling down your neck and you could be up for a wet T-shirt contest.
    ‘Let’s get you dry, then I’ll give you her life history.’
    ‘Lucas?’
    He wrapped his fingers round hers. ‘You’ll get cold, come on.’
    Everything was round the corner for him, it seemed; work, rest, and play.
    Play. ‘Maybe I should go home.’ To my own boring, safe little life.
    ‘Come and get warm first.’ He threw some money on the table, put an arm round her shoulders, and practically dragged her out of the place.
    The shower was nice, the warm, fluffy towel even nicer. The walking into the lounge part a bit embarrassing. He was on his feet before she’d got into the room properly, and she really wished he’d stayed sat down. He was just too sexy, and she didn’t want sexy to be the reason for being here, for making any kind of decision to help. She would have still agreed to think about his offer if he’d had two heads, or been some pimply youth with bad breath. No, she wouldn’t.
    The jeans suited him – well, they were actually quite a bit better than the trousers because although they were tight enough, and low enough for her to practically see his hip bones they didn’t seem to show quite as much of the crotch that her gaze kept homing in on. Which was good. Staring at a man’s crotch was bad news. And the white T-shirt was practically indecent; well, her body’s reaction to it was. It hugged his torso and kind of yelled out “look at me, touch me, rip me off”. She swallowed, trying to get her dry throat back to normal. Maybe she’d just got some kind of hormone overload, too much looking and not enough touching since Mark had gone.
    ‘Coffee?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘That towel suits you.’ He grinned.
    ‘The in thing this year, you know.’ She did a twirl, then instantly regretted it when she saw the look on his face. She could just be heading straight into making a big mistake