Read Swing for Free Online Page A

And now she wanted him desperately.
    His hands pressed against her back, drawing her tighter against his body, her breasts crushed against his solid
    chest. His tongue slipped into her mouth and curled around her lips, a delicate, silky touch. She felt faint at the
    exquisite sensations careening through her.
    His hand slid to her lower back and drew her tighter still. She could feel the bulge of his erection pushing against
    her. Her womb contracted in silent invitation and her folds grew slick. She wanted to arch her pelvis up, to open
    to him right here and now.
    And that shocked her to the bone.
    She stiffened in his arms. After a moment's hesitation, he released her.
    "Sorry," he mumbled.
    She nodded at the single word. "I guess we both got carried away."
    He folded his hand around hers. "Come on. Let's go find your husband."
    She nodded. Shane would help her find her grounding. As Ty led her into the bal room, she hesitated.
    "You know, I doubt we'll be able to find him. He's probably . . . you know . . . with someone."
    "Don't give up so easily."
    He eyed her speculatively and she wondered what he thought of her—a woman who would happily let her
    husband go off with another woman. Which reminded her that he'd done the same with his wife.
    They crossed to the bar and Ty gestured her to a stool, then strode to the other end of the bar and asked the
    bartender a few questions. The bartender waved over one of the waitresses and, after a short conversation with
    her, the bartender consulted a video screen behind the bar.
    Melissa wondered at how this man seemed so intent on taking care of her. A part of her wanted to resist, to
    flaunt her independence and seek Shane on her own. After al , she had been looking after herself for a long
    time. Yet another part of her, a part long hidden inside, reveled in the warmth she felt at having someone look
    out for her. Care for her.
    She had done without a mother for so many years. Her mom had left when Melissa was only sixteen and she'd
    taken on the care of the household and the day-to-day upbringing of her younger sisters—ensuring they got
    their homework done, making the meals, managing chores around the house. Helping them come to terms with
    the loss of their mother.
    Melissa had done the caretaking, never receiving it. Her father had been so busy working and trying to cope with
    raising three daughters as a single parent, he'd focused on the younger two, knowing Melissa could take care of
    herself. In fact, he'd depended on her. She'd never resented it, but sometimes, late at night when the world was
    quiet, she had wished she could be just a teenager again.
    A moment later, Ty returned to her side.
    "He's in the Mariposa room, on the second floor."
    Again, she followed him out the door, then up the curved staircase from the lobby. The Mariposa room stood at
    the end of the grand hal way to the left. Melissa headed for the double doors, but Ty wrapped a hand around
    her waist and steered her to the left.
    "Over here." He led her to a single door down a side corridor.
    Quietly, they entered a smal room with eight theater-style seats. It looked like a small, private balcony in the
    back of a theater, but facing a dark curtain only a yard or so away.
    "He's not here," Melissa said. "Are you sure they said the Mariposa room?"
    "This isn't the Mariposa room." Ty pushed a button on a control panel at the side of the room and the curtains parted. "This is the Mariposa room."
    The parting curtains revealed a window looking onto a room. Inside the room, were several people, all naked.
    "Oh, my." Melissa sank into a chair.
    Ty sat beside her, gazing at her in concern.
    She couldn't bring herself to look directly at the people, but beyond she could see that the wal s were mirrored .
    . . reflecting more images of the naked people.
    "There are other viewing rooms behind those mirrors."
    "Other people are watching?"
    "Watching. Possibly lost in their own activities. The viewing rooms