Read Underworld Queen for Free Online Page B

cobblestoned entryway and random brick patterns on the outside walls covered with vines of ivy. The windows were small-paned in a crisscross pattern, like some of the thatched cottages in the Cotswold district he loved to visit in England. He could almost live the history he studied, as if, once stepping into the little dwelling, he was transported back in time.
    The mailbox at his front door was nearly empty. He unlocked the heavy oak door and entered his domain, setting the book down on a steamer trunk that was his coffee table. The house was in need of a fire. He stoked it quickly and sat down on the brown leather couch, watching the flames take hold.
    When he removed his tweed jacket he remembered his bowtie, which he carefully extricated, along with the folded index card with Molly’s number on it.
    Molly, what would you look like here, on this couch by the fire? Would you let me unbutton your…
    “Oh, God help me,” he muttered. Perhaps it’s been too long since I’ve had a woman. He wondered if he would even know what to do.
    He stood up, kicked off his shoes and walked in his Argyle socks to the kitchen and poured himself a Scotch.
    Now this is what I really wanted. He poured himself another and took it over to the couch, setting the short glass next to the heavy book. The light of the fire danced on the dull dark green paint of the trunk, on the wooden stays and brass studs holding it together, and on the curled index card. He saw the numbers flickering as he leaned over and picked up the paper.
    Without thinking, he retrieved his cell phone from the inside pocket of his jacket and dialed her number. He leaned back into the soft leather and sighed, listening to the rings. He licked his lips and tasted the warm liquor residue there.
    On the third ring, she picked up.
    “Well, hello.”
    Had she expected me really to call?
    “I’ve read the book, and I…” What was it he really wanted to say? “I have something to do in the morning, and thought perhaps your suggestion of returning it to you tonight might work out better.” His exhale drew static on the line, but Molly was patient with her response.
    “Okay.”
    “Well, I don’t want to get you into trouble, you know, with the book and all.”
    “No. We definitely don’t want me to get into trouble.”
    Carl’s face flushed again. He’d always envisioned doing things to her in the stacks, but now he saw other possibilities.
    “Well, I could…”
    “Why don’t I come over?”
    He had been holding his breath and released a sigh she no doubt heard. “That would be good. I think I will be up for a bit.”
    There was a pause. Molly whispered into the phone, “Oh, I hope you’ll be up for more than a bit. I won’t make you wait long.” The phone went dead.
    Should I call her back and cancel? Does she know where I live? He looked at his cell phone keypad and almost hit redial to cancel. Was this sound judgment on his part?
    But as he stood to hang up his jacket and put another log on the fire, the growing bulge in his pants was beginning to call all the shots.
    Mollie’s bug rattled up the driveway and abruptly stopped mid-sputter. Carl had brushed his teeth, reapplied aftershave, and changed his shirt. He opened the heavy front door and tried to stand casually in the doorframe. He could feel the warmth of the fireplace at his back. Molly’s red hair shone in the blue light of the streetlamp at the bottom of the driveway. As she walked to him, he could see her soft white cheeks, her moist red lips, and the hint of cleavage, covered demurely by her nylon jacket.
    In one fluid motion she touched his chest with the mounds of her breasts, and even through their clothes he felt the heat of her body. He lowered his head and she met his lips with hers, parting them, giving him a tiny moan which melted deliciously in his mouth.
    He pulled away to look into her eyes, which sparkled green. He held her cheeks with the palms of his hands and rubbed his thumbs