MakeMeShiver Read Online Free Page A

than massive and bulky. A large tribal tattoo graced his left biceps while a serpent marked the skin from shoulder to elbow on the right. As he turned the remainder of the way to face her, he reminded her of a wayward Viking—stunning, beautiful and dangerous.
    Talk about the ultimate bad boy.
    Seconds seemed to pass like minutes as their eyes met and they studied each other. She knew her cheeks were flushed, her lips were parted and her chest was heaving. The strangest thing was he seemed to be enjoying her reaction, basking in it somehow. Before he spoke, he grinned, causing her insides to become liquid as her knees threatened to buckle.
    “Feel free to explore the house. There’s food in the fridge and wine on the counter.”
    Afraid her voice would reveal exactly how she felt, she nodded. Right then, if he had asked her to bend over the table, bare her ass and let him do as he wished, she would have. The thought alone created another tidal wave of moisture in her panties, causing her to squirm.
    He took a step toward her, then another, then another. When he stopped he reached out, cupped her chin and forced her to meet his level stare. “If you decide to go down to the basement, make sure you leave the door open behind you. There’s a security lock that activates the moment it closes and you won’t be able to get out.” He swept his thumb along her lower lip and a tendril of excitement created flutters in her belly. “Understand?”
    “Uh-huh,” she breathed, wishing like hell he’d end her suffering and allow her to learn what he tasted like by closing the distance and kissing her long and hard.
    The loss of his presence was gut-wrenching. She felt her stomach fold in on itself as he let her go, turned on his heel and walked away. She stood there as his heavy footsteps indicated he was going upstairs, staring down the hallway until the rush of water through pipes overhead indicated he was taking a shower.
    Dear Heavenly Father.
    Right now he was naked and climbing into steamy water. She imagined she was a bar of soap, drifting over his abdomen, outlining the indentions of his six-pack, drifting into the flaxen hair below…
    Snapping out of her daze, she placed her purse on the floor, removed her coat and placed it alongside his. She walked down the hallway. Directly in front of her was a large set of stairs leading to the second floor. To the right was an open door. A pool table and television were visible from where she stood. To the left was a sizeable kitchen with stainless steel appliances, a large center island and stools placed discreetly beneath. His home was immaculately clean and notably masculine, with brown and black fabrics throughout.
    It figured. Scott was a total slob without a maid to pick up the shit he left tossed around. Michael, who worked long hours and did his own laundry, didn’t so much as have a dirty sock or wrinkled towel in sight.
    Walking into the kitchen, she peered into the formal dining room, which had an expensive dark wood table and matching chairs. The crystal bowl situated in the center of the silken runner was stocked with bananas and red apples.
    Good lord. Who would have thought Michael had this kind of money?
    Eventually she wandered into the entertainment room. The large pool table took up the center of the area and intricate stained-glass fixtures were situated directly above it. The large plasma television was affixed to the wall in front of a huge black leather couch. To the left of the room was an open door with stairs going down.
    The entrance to the basement.
    She walked over and studied the numerical pad above the knob. Excitement and curiosity warred with nervousness and uncertainty. What would he possibly have down there that would necessitate having a lock on the door?
    “You know exactly what’s down there,” she muttered.
    The way Michael looked at her when he warned not to shut the door behind her told her all she needed to know. No doubt his playroom