Provocative (White Lies Duet #1) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: White Lies Duet Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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I pull back to look at her. “Are you actually thinking of my meeting right now?”

“Yes,” she murmurs. “But with regret.”

“I moved it to two,” I say, scooping her up and carrying her toward the office, my steps tracking a path that doesn’t stop until we’re at that oversize chair, where I set her down.

I’m on a knee in front of her in an instant, and we’re both removing her boots with hurried hands. The minute I’m over that obstacle, I pull her to her feet, unzipping her pants, my lips on her belly, and the male in me, the man who is obsessed with every inch of this woman, revels in the trembling that quakes her body.

I pull down her pants, panties as well, wrapping my arm around her waist before tugging them away. One hand at her hip, the other cupping her sex, two fingers sliding into her wet heat, where I press them inside her, a tease I quickly remove. She moans in protest, and I stand up, cupping her face again and swallowing that tormented, delicious sound.

“Hurry,” she pleads, reaching for my pants. “I need—”

I kiss her again. “I need,” I murmur, reaching into my pocket for the last condom I have there, but I come up dry. I search the other. I’ve got nothing, and her hand has just made its way into my jeans and into my underwear, her fingers wrapping my cock with delicious pressure.

I reach down and cover her hand with mine. “The last condom I had fell out somewhere.”

She pulls back to look at me. “Oh,” she says, regrettably easing from my body.

My hands go to her waist, eyes raking over her naked breasts, before I promise, “We’ll improvise.”

“I have one,” she says. “I have a condom. A birthday prank at work. They said I— It doesn’t matter. It’s here.” She slips around me and hurries to the desk, naked, beautiful, and suddenly pulling the papers I’d taken photos of from a drawer, flinging them on top of the desk. And as hot and hard as I am, I can think of one thing in this moment. She has zero concern about something in those files exposing a secret or a lie. And I feel her actions as both a relief and a punch of guilt. “I can’t find it,” she announces, pressing her hands to the desk, her head lowered, long blonde hair draping her shoulders. Her back arches, backside in the air. Her beautiful body is exposed, but there is so much more of herself she’s showing to me right now without knowing. “This is wrong on so many levels.”

I move toward her and turn her to me, hands shackling her waist. “Back to improvising.”

“I’m on the pill,” she announces. “I stayed on despite Macom— Okay. Why did I just say his damnable name?” She presses her head to my shoulder and raises it again. “I know you probably don’t want to without one, and I shouldn’t, but I just—”

I kiss her, and no, I do not have sex without a condom. Not ever. But there is trust in what she just offered me that I have not given her. And the sweet taste of her tongue on my tongue is now a part of my new obsession, as is her body pressed to mine, and her—just her—I forget the condom. I forget everything but touching her, kissing her, and then there is that moment when I end up on the chair but she slips away, kneeling at my feet.

“My turn,” she says, yanking at my boot, and if the woman wants my boots off, they’re coming off.

I reach down and take care of the other one before she slides her hands into my pants again. “We’re going naked,” she says. “I want naked.”

“Naked it is,” I say, kissing her hard and fast before I undress and pull her to my lap, her long, sexy legs straddling me, and she is sliding down my naked cock, the wet heat of her naked body gripping me, and it is pure fucking bliss.

But more so is the moment that I’m kissing her, and then I’m not because we’re just breathing together. I feel this woman in ways I didn’t know it was possible to feel a woman, and I just met her. I feel her everywhere, burning me alive. And maybe I’m making the biggest mistake of my life with her, but if I die, I’ll die happy. And when we do kiss again, it’s slow, sexy kisses. And slow, nerve-stroking slides of our body that meld our breathing, our tongues, our bodies, until we both shatter into release. Until I release inside her as I have with no other woman since I was a young fool, and I bury my face in her vanilla-and-amber-smelling hair.


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