Szereto, Mellanie - Two from the Triangle [Bewitching Desires 7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read Free

lack of makeup, and dark innocent eyes, she could be all of fifteen or sixteen years old.
    Seemingly ignoring his request, she slipped the elastic from the end of her braid and unwound her dark waist-length hair. The long strands flowing down her back added to his desire to touch her. “I, um, I’m not sure how I got on your plane.”
    She fiddled with thick waves, combing her fingers through the damp locks and nibbling on her lower lip.
    “Somebody put you in the locker without you knowing?” Women had hidden away in his car after several air shows, claiming they’d wanted to sleep with a pilot, but he’d never found one inside the plane he was flying. His ex-girlfriend had ditched him after the last incident, not giving him the benefit of the doubt or letting him tell his side of the story.
    “I was at home, and then I was...there.” The girl’s averted gaze told him she wasn’t being completely honest with him.
    Sarcasm warred with horniness. “Somebody made you appear on the plane with some sort of magic spell?”
    Her eyes widened, and she crossed her arms in front of her delectable tits.
    “Back off, Heath.” Owen dropped his white scarf on top of his boots. “We’re all on edge because of the accident. Let her be.”
    Raising his eyebrows at his flying partner and best friend, Heath flicked open the top button of his shirt. “I just want to know how she—”
    “Does it matter at this point? We’re damn lucky to be alive.” Owen tossed his leather cap and goggles in the sand, raking his fingers through his flattened hair. “I think we need to worry about where we’re going to find supplies and how long until somebody rescues us.”
    Heath worked the last button free and slipped off the shirt. “Fine. We’ll take care of food and shelter first, but I’m not letting her off the hook. I want answers. It’s too damn coincidental if you ask me.”
    Squatting next to the lady in question, Owen patted her bare knee. “Don’t pay any attention to him, honey. He’s pissy about the engine problems. I’m Owen Vance. The grouch is Heath Ulrich.”
    She seemed to study the sand at her feet, and her teeth came out to nibble on her lip again. “I’m Heléna Macska. Where are we?”
    “I’m not a grouch.” Spitting out the denial, Heath glared at his friend. The urge to punch him in the nose for feeling up Heléna had Heath flexing his jaw and balling his hands into fists. “My best guess is one of the cays east of Little Abaco.”
    She glanced up at him with a frown. “I don’t know where that is.”
    “North end of the Bahamas.”
    Her expression didn’t change. “What’s a cay?”
    Her skimpy underclothes distracted him for a moment, and he held in a frustrated growl. “Kind of like an island. Made of sand or part of a coral reef.”
    “Oh.” She sighed.
    At twenty-three, he had enough experience with women to know that her sigh wasn’t any ordinary exhale. Was she upset that her plan to seduce him or Owen had been derailed by the unscheduled landing? Or maybe she wanted first-class accommodations for her island getaway. He’d had his fill of selfish, spoiled women. Not that she was a woman yet.
    Stripping to his underwear, he willed his dick to wilt. “What are your parents going to say when you don’t come home? I’m sure glad I don’t have a teenage daughter.”
    She jerked her head up, a flash of anger sparking in her eyes. Grabbing her clothes, she rose and stomped toward the far end of the beach. After half a dozen steps, she whirled around. “Teenage? I’ll have you know I’m twenty-one. And—and... Oh, never mind.”
    Her skirt trailed behind her as she marched away, her luscious round ass drawing his gaze with every sway of her hips. The breeze carried hints of mumbled insults back to him.
    Did she just call me a waste of pussy juice? No, he had to have heard wrong. Women didn’t talk like that.
    Owen gave him a shove. “You’ve got some way with the ladies there,