Naughty Little Secret Read Online Free Page A

had never been hired. Would she really go out with the guy? Sleep with him?
    Not if Noah could help it. He’d waited ten years to have her. Gritted his teeth through two pregnancies and a rocky marriage to a guy who had never appreciated her as he should have. Tim wasn’t a total jerk, just self-absorbed. Lauren deserved more.
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    Now, Noah was here to show her who he was, aside from having been Tim’s college pal. She had to experience him in a way not related to the past, having nothing to do with being her boss. To see how she could be with him and no ex-husbands, business meetings—or clothes—between them.
    Once he had her sated…then they’d talk. He’d reveal himself. And hope like hell she could admit to the something sizzling between them.
    He’d build on that. She knew he wasn’t a selfish workaholic like Tim, but she had to understand that he’d devote himself to her pleasure and happiness. She liked and respected him. They connected intellectually, shared plenty in common, such as a quirky sense of humor. But Lauren thought of him as her surrogate big brother/Tim’s Doberman. He had to change her opinion.
    Starting tonight.
    Blood whipped through his veins, lashed him with heat, as he stepped into the nearly quiet bedroom and made his way across the shadowy space. The sounds of canned sitcom laughter, with the volume turned very low, reached his ears. Damn thing better not wake her , he thought with a scowl.
    She’d changed the furniture since Tim’s departure. Good. Even if the house was the same, for the girls’ sake, she’d replaced more intimate reminders of her marriage. In place of the Spartan mission style furniture they’d had before, Lauren had bought pieces that looked feminine, golden warm, and stylishly weathered. An intricate wrought-iron headboard made him smile.
    All the curves and curls in that wrought-iron design would come in handy. Soon.
    He reached her side, eased the bag onto the carpeted floor, and took a moment to contemplate the feast of female as he stared down into her
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    Shelley Bradley
    peaceful face. Silvery tracks glistened on her cheek. Noah’s smile fell.
    Had she been…crying?
    He sank to his knees and looked closely. Yes, she had. The tears had fallen down her cheeks and dried as she’d drifted off. Even now, he could see her eyes were puffy, her nose a bit red.
    The sight hit him like a battering ram to the gut. If the tears had anything to do with her girls or anything else she held dear, he’d hold her and help her find a way to make it better. If it had anything to do with Mr. Mysterious, as she put it, failing to put in an appearance…well, he’d soothe her ache—right now.
    Noah fished a pair of velvet-lined cuffs from his bag and gently slipped one around Lauren’s sleep-lax wrist. He frowned in concentration, his heart pounding like a turbo-charged sledgehammer into his chest. The next wrist, still tucked under her cheek, would prove more of a challenge. He had to do it without waking her. He couldn’t risk her panicking, thinking she had a burglar or rapist, and possibly hurting herself.
    While pondering the best way to move Lauren, she helped him out and rolled to her back.
    He nearly swallowed his tongue. The red lace of the camisole hugged the curves of her breasts. The little velvet laces could barely contain her.
    Soft, round flesh spilled over the cups, tempting him with the pounding need to get on top of her, get deep inside of her, make sure she knew she was his.
    One thing at a time… he reminded himself. Secure her, then fuck her.
    Waiting wasn’t an option. He’d already done plenty of that.
    Carefully, he reached for Lauren’s other wrist and brought it up to the waiting cuff he’d fed through one of the iron headboard’s curves. In response, she moaned, fidgeted, and pressed her thighs together. She
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    wriggled her hips, then lifted them in his direction. Another moan,