Rebound (Tryst Island Series) Read Online Free Page A

her breasts. Her nipples were hard, visible through the silky material of her blouse. “We’ve never talked about…you know…health stuff.”
    Health stuff. Right. “I have condoms.” Shit, he had a full, unopened box in his suitcase. Not that he’d planned this once he’d seen her name pop up on the calendar this afternoon. But it did illustrate the value of positive thinking.
    “Thank God,” she gushed. He was dying to find out if she gushed elsewhere. “I didn’t bring any.”
    “And for the record, I’m clean.”
    “Me too.”
    “On the pill?”  
    “Yes.”
    Shit yeah. They didn’t need the condoms.
    Their gazes locked. They stared at each other for a long moment. Tension crackled.
    “Do you think you can make it downstairs?”
    She tipped her head to the side like a puppy who thought she heard something about going for a walk . “Downstairs?”
    “I’m in the grotto.” He’d made sure to get here first. Whoever arrived first got their choice of rooms. He’d made damn sure he got the single in the basement. Far away from everyone else.
    She didn’t respond. She didn’t say a word. She turned tail and sprinted for the door leading to the staircase.
    Naturally, he followed.
     
    The bottom floor of the house was one big rumpus room with a single bedroom and bath on one end. It featured an enormous wide screen TV and a pool table and several comfortable sofas. But Cam had the bed in mind for this, his first time with Kristi.
    And there would be others. Many others. He was resolute about that. Determined.
    He didn’t count on her being just as determined as he.
    As soon as they pounded down the stairs and rounded the banister into the rumpus room, she turned to him and began tugging his T-shirt out of his waistband. “Off,” she demanded. “Take it off. I want to see you.”
    He didn’t hesitate. Hell. What red-blooded man would? When a Rubenesque goddess demanded a man strip—a man stripped. He whipped off the offending garment and tossed it onto the pool table.  
    “You too,” he commanded and then all thought escaped him as she complied, yanking her blouse over her head without even unbuttoning it. “Holy fuck.”  
    All he could do was stare. Stare at her exquisite breasts, full and heavy and cupped in some kind of Victoria’s Secret torture device. Torture for men, that was. Her bra was lacy and black and had tantalizing curlicues that framed her milky globes in a way designed to drive a man insane.
    He wanted to rip it from her, let her breasts spill out into his hands. But he didn’t. He traced the edge, exploring the provoking contrast of colors. She shuddered. Her jaw clenched. Her lips parted and her eyes glazed. When he dropped a little lower to tease a fat nipple through the lace, she sighed. “Cam. I’m so wet.”
    Of all the phrases in the English language, that was the one he couldn’t resist. Not at a moment like this. Not when it fell from those lush lips.
    He made a sound even he didn’t quite recognize, something bestial. It vibrated on the skeins of air between them. And then there was no air between them. There was nothing between them but her wisp of a bra. He plastered his bare chest against hers and walked her back until she bumped into the pool table. He lifted her up and set her on the edge and took her mouth with his.
    As exhilarating as their first kiss had been, this one was better.
    Holy mother of God, was it better. He consumed her and she gave it right back, full measure. Operating on instinct, pure animal lust, he unsnapped her jeans. She grunted and leaned to the side so he could peel them off. Well, not off, but down to her boots. He couldn’t be bothered with those. Not now.  
    He changed angles and nibbled her lips, fucked her gently with his tongue. She scored his neck with her nails.  
    When he teased that warm wet slit through the cotton of her panties, she began to shake. A whimper passed between them. He wasn’t entirely sure whose it