Key of Solomon: Relic Defender, Book 1 Read Online Free Page B

slurred from his lips, much like dental patient dribble. She half-expected to see drool drip off his chin. “Wanna party with me and my friends?”
    She sighed. His oh-so-supportive friends provided encouragement, their catcalls and hoots getting louder. More creative. She heard several references to what she could do with them. Alone or any combination of the group.
    “So, what do ya’ think?” the jerk continued as his upper body arched toward her.
    Ah jeez. Her nose wrinkled, and her upper lip curled. The stench of beer mixed with garlic, onions and, heaven help her, something rotten, washed over her.
    “Sit down, dude,” she said, ignoring his question. And his hair-curling odor. “You really don’t want to do this. Look, Heavenly Holly’s on-stage. How about I get you and your friends a drink. On me.”
    His eyes narrowed and he reached out—maybe to grab her, hug her, she didn’t fucking care. She pictured her boss yelling in her ear about taking care of the customers. Oh yeah, good idea. Stand there while a bunch of hormone-hopped perverts put their grungy hands on her or Sam. Good customer relations, my ass .
    She crooked her head at the man and smiled. Eyes shot through with red brightened. He thought he had her. Before he took a step, she stomped on his instep and jabbed the heel of her hand into his chest. Looking as if he’d been rammed by a tractor, he stumbled backwards, his arms flailing. Honestly, she hadn’t hit him that hard. Had she?
    His friends broke his fall. From the dumbfounded expressions on their faces, catching him equaled accident.
    Drunken, oversexed idiots.
    As one, five pairs of bloodshot eyes fastened on her.
    Terrific. Just terrific.
     
    Mikos Tyomni unclenched his fingers from the back of the chair leaving behind small indentations in the scarred wood. Tiny reflections of the extreme emotions flooding his system. Beatus Deus . He lifted a hand to his face, surprised to find his fingers trembling. An array of disturbing feelings fought for control. Feelings he’d thought he’d finally been able to suppress. Covetousness. Lust. Possession.
    Possession of the exotic woman whose hips begged for his touch. Whose lithe, sensual movements offered bliss.
    The woman on the stage, Lexi he’d heard her named, radiated a vitality that drew him to her like a magnet. Her features contained an alluring blend of Egyptian and Grecian traits. Thick dark hair hung in long graceful curves over her shoulders. Loose tendrils framed a sun-kissed face with a short, straight nose and softly rounded chin.
    A diaphanous confection of emerald, garnet, gold and pearl silks whispered over full hips that tapered into long, smooth legs. The ebb and flow of the thin material offered teasing glimpses of bronzed skin and shapely calves. He had been unable to see the color of her eyes or their shape but he could imagine. Imagine the way they would darken and turn moist with desire as she moved her hips under his.
    Hell’s gate, the way she moved. Seductive, with unconscious grace and delicacy, a golden lioness stalking her prey. Over the centuries, he’d seen many beautiful women dance the raqs sharqi . But none had this Lexi’s finesse or the ability to entwine the sultry rhythms with the enchanting hip swirls and dips. Even Egypt’s most powerful seductress, Cleopatra, had never performed as evocatively as this woman had. She’d certainly never taken his breath away.
    It took all the willpower Mikos commanded to stop his traitorous body from leaping onto the stage to draw Lexi against his body. To slowly pull off each delicate piece of fabric and reveal each curve and mysterious valley of the slender form hidden under the veils. To caress warm skin and explore the sleek lines of her back, her waist, her hips. Then finally, to press her body to the hard floor as he thrust into her again and again and again. His legs quivered with the effort to remain still.
    Mikos sucked in a deep breath and willed his