Snapped Read Free

finger out this
time. Last night he'd assumed too much—that Lucy would like the show and stick
around to watch. He wasn't going to listen to the guys anymore.
    Nick sat in the
moonlit twenty-second floor Southbank apartment listening to his watch tick. From
the wingback armchair, he didn't have a view of the front door or of Mollino's
apartment across the street. The only thing he got to look at was the couch and
the wall. Perfect.
    A key rattled in
the door and he felt a rush of anticipation. He liked this part, the moments
before a sting when every nerve zapped with energy and anything could happen.
    He heard the
door open and Lucy entered. At least, he assumed it was Lucy. He couldn't see
her so he couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but every sense confirmed it. The
smell of her jasmine perfume, the light step of someone her size. She placed
the tripod on the carpet, the feet making a muffled whump, whump, whump .
Lenses whirred and a series of clicks echoed through the apartment in time to
his thudding heart. Suddenly there was silence, and he sensed that she was
waiting too. Just as long as she waited near the window and didn't wander
around the room, he was safe.
    "Ah, there
you are," she said.
    Nick froze and
closed his eyes. Damn. Had she sensed him too?
    But she didn't
move and he realized she was talking to herself as she watched Mollino through
the window. He silently let out a held breath and rolled his eyes to the
ceiling. Get a grip, Dante .
    "And there's your little
floozy." The light modular tones of her voice floated around him, through
him. Imagine that voice whispering her wildest fantasies...
    "Mmmm, nice thong," she
murmured. Click . "Special order by the looks of it. Maybe I should
get the name of your supplier." Click .
    Nick leaned towards the soft cadence,
rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and smoothed his fingertips over his
lips.
    "Hell knows, I need something to get
me going again." Click .
    Get her going again? What did that mean? From
all accounts, she wasn't the type who needed much winding up to perform. Maybe
she was going through a slump. He smiled into his fingers. Cute little vixens
like Lucy Hudson don't have slumps.
    "That's it, take it off," she
murmured. "Oh yeah, nice."
    Nick swallowed. This was turning into a
very bad idea. He was growing hard just listening to her. If her voice alone
could do this to him, imagine what the rest of her would do.
    "Mmmm, I like that. Show Lucy what
you've got."
    He wished he could. Staying hidden in the
chair was torture. All he wanted to do was leap out, kiss her, take her right there
on the floor. Oh hell. He wasn't supposed to lose it so easily.
    "She likes that." Her breath
came in ragged gasps. "So do I."
    Nick closed his eyes and concentrated on
breathing. But the sound of Lucy shedding her jacket drew them open again as if
he'd be able to see her striptease. Maybe if he sat forward, leaned around the
chair a little, he would... A round rear-end greeted his view and he couldn't
tear his gaze away. His fingers twitched, aching to grab her and pull that pert
derriere into his lap.
    She rubbed her palms down thighs clad in
figure-hugging black pants, reminding him that his own were sweaty. He wiped
them on the arms of the chair, but it didn't help. Drops of sweat formed at his
temple and above his lip, as he watched Lucy photographing the show in the
other apartment.
    "Nice move," she said, her
voice thick. She was turned on by the show. He was turned on by her.
    She sighed and plucked at the front of
her tight zippered top above her breasts. Yeah, the temperature in the
apartment had hit boiling point. Sweat trickled down his neck under his collar
and he loosened his tie further because he was in danger of choking or
sweltering to death.
    As he watched, Lucy bent to look through
the camera again. "Now you're talking." The sound of a long zipper
being drawn down filled the silence. With a seductive twist of her shoulders, her
top fell to