Read Wicked Lovers 01 Wicked Ties for Free Online Page A

the bra. The grown-up version of wadded-up tissues?
    When Morgan winced, Alyssa laughed. “You gotta do what you gotta do. They’re like an instant boob job. With clothes on, no one will know the difference.”
    Releasing the breath she’d been holding, Morgan realized that was likely true. She had no business bemoaning the fact she wasn’t a D cup.
    Morgan began to don the bra, acutely aware of Alyssa watching her every move. It was damn uncomfortable. She’d kill to have Alyssa’s easy attitude about nudity, but she just hadn’t been raised that way. She had been nearly twenty-one before she’d worked up the nerve to masturbate. After all, with a born-again mother who’d sent her to an all-girls’ school, she’d heard little about sex before turning eighteen. Until she’d gone to college, Morgan hadn’t really known the difference between her cuticles and her clit.
    Pushing away the thought, Morgan fastened the bra and lifted her breasts into the cups—what there was of them. The bra was slung low on wire-thin straps. A slash of black lace barely covered each of her nipples. The gel inserts pushed the top swells of her breasts up and out on display. Instant cleavage.
    Alyssa whistled and shot her a saucy look. “I’ll give you a piece of advice: Don’t show Jack your tits unless you want to drive him insane with lust.”
    The blonde turned away, heading back into the bathroom. Morgan stared at the woman’s slender back and silky blonde strands clinging to her shoulders.
    Centerfolds were less attractive than Alyssa. Though probably over thirty, she was still very striking. Morgan knew for a fact, based on Reggie’s extensive research, Jack wasn’t gay. Given those facts, it seemed logical that he and Alyssa were…involved. From the woman’s offhanded comment, it sounded like Alyssa didn’t care if she enticed Jack.
    Lord, she’d left Los Angeles, where she’d always thought of life as being somewhat surreal, and landed in Cajun country, a place she began to suspect was the south’s version of Oz.
    “I don’t plan to show Jack my breasts,” she said, adjusting the bra, wishing for more cover.
    “Maybe not, but ten bucks says he plans to see them.”
    Morgan frowned. “Based on what? I was interviewing Jack for my show. And then, when the shooting started, he offered to protect me—”
    “And he will. He’s the best. But Jack Cole is a breast man, and you’ve got a great rack.”
    As if she’d just announced something as mundane as night falling, Alyssa turned and lifted a makeup case off the counter. Setting the case aside, She studied Morgan’s face with nothing more than a mild case of impatience.
    “That doesn’t bother you?” Morgan couldn’t resist asking.
    Her gaze strayed to the bedding, looking too rumpled to be caused by mere sleep. Morgan wondered if Jack had been here before meeting her—and why the thought bothered her.
    “That Jack might fuck you?” She shrugged. “He’s not mine.”
    Morgan frowned. Too weird. “Nothing’s going to happen between us. I have no intention of getting involved with Jack.”
    “The road to hell is paved with good intentions,” Alyssa shot back with a throaty laugh.
    Before Morgan could wade through her confusion and reply, the blonde switched topics again. “Let’s get your make-up on.”
    Alyssa lifted a slender hand and took the straw hat and scarf from Morgan’s head.
    A moment later, she began her cosmetics frenzy. A thick foundation coated Morgan’s face. Concealer came next, and Morgan hoped it would cover the worst of the damage wrought from missing so much sleep. Next came the bright rosy blush, the siren-red lipstick painted on thickly with a brush. Dark eyeliner and eyeshadow was applied in a quick blur. Black mascara followed, lifting and separating her lashes. An eyebrow pencil and brown mascara hid the fact that her brows were not the same pale brown as the other woman’s.
    When Alyssa stepped away and prodded her