sodden folds. Her hips wanted to buck against that touch, but his free arm wound around her body to hold her still. He would touch her, taste her, maybe even take her right here in his office. The sheer naughty excitement of it only heightened her pleasure.
The anticipation of his mouth on her aching core caused her breath to quicken. Then— oh, yes —he leaned in to lick at her mound, spread her folds apart, slip his tongue inside, and…
"I don't suppose you thought to share that bit of advice with your mother."
Rhonda shook off the fantasy, biting hard on her lower lip as she glanced up at Nancy. Her cheeks heated in a telltale blush. Thank the gods something in her friend's suitcase monopolized the bulk of her attention. "She didn't ask. Besides, she raised two kids of her own. She should know the tricks to maintain sanity by now."
Nancy straightened at the three short raps to the hotel room door. She paused on her way to answer it, shooting Rhonda a look. "Mothers tend to forget those little tricks with age, no matter how many children we've raised."
Since Nancy had raised four children of her own and played a large part in the lives of her six grandchildren, Rhonda figured the woman knew her stuff. "The things I get to look forward to," she mumbled good-naturedly and typed, Speculations abound . She smiled, pleased with herself for thinking up this contest to get her readers involved in her work. Though this trip to Bangkok was definitely a vacation, she had already started making notes for her next book.
"Room service."
Rhonda noted the heavily accented voice muffled by the still closed door with half her mind, the other part continuing with her post. Ready for today's hint?
"We didn't order anything." The sounds of the lock disengaging and the knob turning accompanied Nancy's statement.
"Room service," the voice said again.
Rhonda decided to give her readers a bit more than a pebble, remembering something she'd told another friend when asked where she would be spending the next week. I'm in a place of exotic beauty towering over a river that sparkles like diamonds .
"You must have the wrong room."
I can see the sweeping view of the city skyli —
Rhonda paused, the insistence she heard coming into her friend's voice causing a prickle of apprehension to dance across the back of her neck.
"Compliments of the hotel, madam."
Rhonda looked up, the prickle morphing to a wash of fear as her gaze slammed into the cold, calculating eyes of a man she had seen only once in a photo nearly two years ago. The photo of Michael had been in the hands of a man who worked for the drug lord Veng Kim Phay, a man who nearly killed Ryan Magee, had Timmy Walker kidnapped, and Rayne Jasper beaten.
"Boran Roumduol." The name rolled from her lips as her blood turned to ice. One thought managed to take hold through the terror: Help . Her gaze locked on his menacing face, she typed, SOS Bing , and lowered her BlackBerry as Roumduol raised his gun.
* * * *
Silver Springs, Mississippi
One week later
What kind of a man got off on self-inflicted pain?
Michael jammed a hand through his hair and pushed a hard breath from his lungs. Apparently he did. Worse, there didn't seem to be an end to the suffering he dealt himself.
He pulled open the cabinet in his kitchen, letting out a sardonic chuckle when his gaze landed on the box of Cocoa Krispies on the shelf. While everything in his life these last two years seemed to circle back to the docks, his pain had really begun with a chance meeting in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. He still couldn't look at a box of Rice Krispies without thinking of her, without wanting her.
Married. Nothing spelled “hands off” more definitely than that particular M word. Still, it hadn't stopped the obsession from starting. In those few short minutes, Rhonda Ramsey got under his skin, into his soul, and he'd wanted her. The want turned to an emphatic need when that M word morphed to
The anticipation of his mouth on her aching core caused her breath to quicken. Then— oh, yes —he leaned in to lick at her mound, spread her folds apart, slip his tongue inside, and…
"I don't suppose you thought to share that bit of advice with your mother."
Rhonda shook off the fantasy, biting hard on her lower lip as she glanced up at Nancy. Her cheeks heated in a telltale blush. Thank the gods something in her friend's suitcase monopolized the bulk of her attention. "She didn't ask. Besides, she raised two kids of her own. She should know the tricks to maintain sanity by now."
Nancy straightened at the three short raps to the hotel room door. She paused on her way to answer it, shooting Rhonda a look. "Mothers tend to forget those little tricks with age, no matter how many children we've raised."
Since Nancy had raised four children of her own and played a large part in the lives of her six grandchildren, Rhonda figured the woman knew her stuff. "The things I get to look forward to," she mumbled good-naturedly and typed, Speculations abound . She smiled, pleased with herself for thinking up this contest to get her readers involved in her work. Though this trip to Bangkok was definitely a vacation, she had already started making notes for her next book.
"Room service."
Rhonda noted the heavily accented voice muffled by the still closed door with half her mind, the other part continuing with her post. Ready for today's hint?
"We didn't order anything." The sounds of the lock disengaging and the knob turning accompanied Nancy's statement.
"Room service," the voice said again.
Rhonda decided to give her readers a bit more than a pebble, remembering something she'd told another friend when asked where she would be spending the next week. I'm in a place of exotic beauty towering over a river that sparkles like diamonds .
"You must have the wrong room."
I can see the sweeping view of the city skyli —
Rhonda paused, the insistence she heard coming into her friend's voice causing a prickle of apprehension to dance across the back of her neck.
"Compliments of the hotel, madam."
Rhonda looked up, the prickle morphing to a wash of fear as her gaze slammed into the cold, calculating eyes of a man she had seen only once in a photo nearly two years ago. The photo of Michael had been in the hands of a man who worked for the drug lord Veng Kim Phay, a man who nearly killed Ryan Magee, had Timmy Walker kidnapped, and Rayne Jasper beaten.
"Boran Roumduol." The name rolled from her lips as her blood turned to ice. One thought managed to take hold through the terror: Help . Her gaze locked on his menacing face, she typed, SOS Bing , and lowered her BlackBerry as Roumduol raised his gun.
* * * *
Silver Springs, Mississippi
One week later
What kind of a man got off on self-inflicted pain?
Michael jammed a hand through his hair and pushed a hard breath from his lungs. Apparently he did. Worse, there didn't seem to be an end to the suffering he dealt himself.
He pulled open the cabinet in his kitchen, letting out a sardonic chuckle when his gaze landed on the box of Cocoa Krispies on the shelf. While everything in his life these last two years seemed to circle back to the docks, his pain had really begun with a chance meeting in the cereal aisle of the grocery store. He still couldn't look at a box of Rice Krispies without thinking of her, without wanting her.
Married. Nothing spelled “hands off” more definitely than that particular M word. Still, it hadn't stopped the obsession from starting. In those few short minutes, Rhonda Ramsey got under his skin, into his soul, and he'd wanted her. The want turned to an emphatic need when that M word morphed to
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