Read Three Little Words for Free Online Page B

chuckle. The rumble rolled through her, and he nuzzled the curve of her stomach. She pushed her hands into his hair, rumpling silky smooth strands in her clutching fingers and holding him where she wanted him most. Desire pulsed through her veins, her blood running thick and languid despite the pounding of her heart.
    The room dimmed and started to spin slowly. She dug her heels into the floor, but the panorama continued to shift. Like a diner trapped in one of those rotating rooftop restaurants, Jo tried to focus on a single spot. The edges of her vision blurred, smearing his handsome features. Her fingernails scraped his scalp in a desperate attempt to anchor herself in the eye of the storm.
    She cried out when his hot tongue scraped the front of her panties, dragging the drenched fabric over hypersensitive flesh. Greg devoured the last shreds of her sanity by thrusting the soaked satin into her with a hard push of his tongue. Teeth rasped her cloth-covered clit until she thought she’d climb straight out of her skin. He nuzzled the abused panties aside then dragged the tip of his tongue along the swollen lip of her pussy.
    Her thrusts turned wild and uncontrollable. And Greg didn’t even try to restrain her. Instead, he hummed his appreciation, jerked the crotch of her panties away, and speared her with his tongue.
    Jo came hard and fast, pressing her head into the unforgiving wall and her cunt into the fervent caress of his mouth. Wave after wave of pulsing climax ripped through her. She shuddered, riding every crest until he wrung the last drops of pleasure from her, leaving her limp and exhausted.
    “Wow.” His whispered assessment hit the nail straight on the head.
    And she would tell him. Just as soon as she found her lips. Warm and inviting, a fog of bliss wrapped itself around her, providing soft cushion when her legs gave way and she slid to the floor.
    “Josie?”
    She nearly purred when he said her name. Or maybe she did. Her whole body felt like one big, goofy grin. Greg the Grin Giver. That should be his name.
    “Josie, are you okay?”
    Okay. Beyond okay. Better than good. She tried to lift her hand to brush his concern aside, but the damn thing weighed too much.
    “Josie? Sweetheart?”
    Oh. Sweetheart. She liked the sound of it. Liked it so much that when he slid his arms under her back and knees, she snuggled deep into the crook of his neck. Moments later, the rough abrasion of carpet fibers was replaced by cool, smooth sheets. He slid his arms out from under her and brushed her hair back from her face. So damn good. Nice to have someone take care of her for a change.
    “Josie?” he whispered.
    Yes, Josie. She was Josie again. Sighing her contentment, Jo burrowed deeper into the pillow and surrendered to sweet, fuzzy darkness.
    * * * *
    Jo awoke to a sadistic streak of sunlight searing her eyelids and her tongue welded to her palette. She tried to part her lips to take in some fresh oxygen, but some prankster had velcroed them together. Drawing a tentative hit through her nose, she abandoned the quest to open her mouth in favor of prying her neon-orange eyelids apart. For some reason, she had the wacky idea daylight would be more welcome than the pits of fiery blackness. Boy, was she wrong. A shaft of bright white light scorched her retinas. Thankfully, the superglue on her lashes proved stronger than her will. Letting them snap shut again, Jo sank deeper into the pillow. Apparently, the orange-black abyss was exactly where she belonged.
    She also knew damn well she didn’t belong in this particular bed.
    For one thing, the pillow was all wrong. The second clue was the unmistakable scents of booze, sleep, and aftershave hanging heavy in the air. Still, a woman hoped for the best. Maybe she’d been lucky enough to get hit by a bus on her way home the previous night. She clung to the frail possibility of a doctor-scented hospital room as she took two more weak inhalations through her nose, the only