Naughty Little Secret Read Online Free

until she’d spoken the words, Lauren hadn’t realized how much she ached to have someone hold her. Tonight.
    “Lauren… Sugar, I’m sorry if I upset you.”
    She shook her head, frowning to ward off more tears. “I’m fine. I just need to go.”
    Slowly, with obvious reluctance, he released her. “Sure. Where are you off to?”
    Sending a pained smile in his direction, she held up the box. “I’m going home, put this stuff on, and get on with the rest of my life. Maybe Mr. Mysterious will show up and put a smile on my face.”

    Z Z Z

    Cursing the dark shadows enshrouding the porch, Noah Reeves lifted the clay pot at his feet, now riot with a profusion of spring flowers that nearly made him sneeze—which would likely wake half the neighborhood. He managed to hold it in while he felt around the cold cement. Finally, his fingers latched onto metal. Just where it had always
    -22-
    Naughty Little Secret
    been… A grin broke out across his face as he grabbed the key and replaced the flowerpot.
    After pocketing the key, Noah reached for the small black bag he’d set at his feet. He unzipped it slowly, silently. Barely restraining his impatience. Adrenaline crashed through his system as he extracted the leather gloves he’d packed, fished out the key again, and donned the gloves.
    With leather-clad hands and a cock that wouldn’t stand down, he opened the door.
    Dark. Silence. Toward the back of the house, he saw a gray light casting down the hall, first bright, then dim, before turning bright once more. The TV, he’d bet. Damn, it was one in the morning. He’d have to work around it.
    Reaching into his bag again, Noah pulled out his black ski mask and pulled it over his head. Showtime…
    Palms sweating under his gloves and perspiration breaking out across his back, he crept down the hall toward the oddly flashing light.
    Slowly. Quietly. Heart threatening to pound out of his chest, Noah gripped the handle of his bag, breath held, as he neared his destination.
    He’d waited nearly ten years for this opportunity. Ten fucking years.
    He’d plotted this night for the last two. Thought he’d die of impatience the last six months. And tonight…he could barely rein in his excitement or need. The urge to fuck, to claim, seized him. The now he’d been craving had finally arrived.
    Noah reached the end of the hallway and peeked in. And nearly stopped breathing. She was here. Hopefully asleep. Alone.
    All his.
    Tip-toeing into the bedroom, Noah stared down at his fantasy, his future.
    -23-
    Shelley Bradley
    For now, she lay on her side, one hand under her flushed cheek, her pale thighs tangled up in her covers. The rest of her…almost totally exposed. Skin. Inches and inches of blessedly bare limbs, torso, and shoulders. The only covering? A familiar red lace thong and matching camisole. As he’d known the first time he’d seen the garments, Lauren looked delicious in them.
    That was exactly why he’d bought them. And sent them to her. Then stopped to watch her blush and squirm once she opened them. And he’d been so damn hard imagining her in them ever since.
    It’s also why he played devil’s advocate with her when she received them…to make sure she wasn’t scared. To make sure she was ready—
    really ready—to let go of the past and take a lover.
    Persuading her he should be that someone was the trick.
    Noah hated subterfuge. This James Bond crap of sneaking in her house, pretending to be someone else, and surprising her wasn’t his first choice. But he had to do something—fast.
    Lauren had started dressing sexier at work. Last Wednesday, he’d nearly drooled on her—in between being mentally rushed by a thousand heady fantasies, all revolving around Lauren naked with her nails in his back while he pounded deep inside her. He’d had to look away to avoid jumping on her. Worse, he was pretty sure she’d worn the heart attack-inducing little skirt for Gary, the accounting twerp. Gary, who he wished