Tell No Lies Read Online Free

jeans. He was aroused . . . and she had never in her life been more turned on by a man. Her body craved him. Her nipples ached. She shrugged, her breath hitching on a sigh. “Looks to me like you’re the one who’s scared,” she taunted.
    He ventured closer, seeming to wage a war with whatever thoughts were going through his head, and Augusta felt the moisture between her thighs. She dug her toes into the cool water and sand beneath her feet and beckoned him nearer. She’d worn a white V-neck T-shirt over an ankle-length skirt the color of ripe berries. Her breasts strained at the material, aching for his long fingers. Somewhere in the fog of her brain she realized how reckless this was, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She shuddered as he stared, hunger in his eyes.
    He didn’t say anything as he approached and less when he reached her. There was no need to pretend coyness. It wasn’t Augusta’s style. She wanted him to kiss her—needed him to touch her—and she slid her arm around his neck as he bent to her mouth, welcoming the feel of his soft, warm lips over hers. He didn’t hold back. He gave her his tongue, sliding the fevered warmth of it into her mouth, tasting every corner greedily, nipping her tongue, kissing her hungrily, and they locked into a carnal embrace right there on the beach, under the cover of darkness.
    Augusta met every exploration of his hands with her own hungry inspection of his body. She had lived thirty-four years and never experienced this aching need to be filled so deeply by a man’s body.
    “Is this why you came to see me, Augusta?” he whispered, his voice raw against her cheek. He pressed his groin against her so she could feel the full evidence of his arousal, and her breath caught. She tasted the sweat from his upper lip and lapped it greedily from her lips. She was vaguely aware that one breast had escaped the confines of her T-shirt and her bare flesh was being caressed by cool night air. She wanted his mouth to warm her skin.
    His eyes impaled her, those clear blue eyes that made her want to say anything to keep him right here in her arms. “Yes,” she said with a shivery sigh, and reached up to nip his lip.
    “You sure?”
    Would a killer ask permission to make love to her?
    She didn’t think so.
    Augusta nodded.
    He was innocent, she decided, but right now she felt anything but. Her lips were bruised by their kiss. Her heart pounded against her ribs. He leaned to kiss her nipple, taking it into his mouth and suckling hard, seeming to read her thoughts.
    Augusta moaned deep in her throat.
    Her head fell back against the pile as he slid a hand beneath her skirt, into her panties . . . between her thighs. He dipped his finger inside her and his eyes met hers over the rise of her breast. His mouth left her nipple long enough for him to whisper with a devious smile, “Looks like I found your sweet spot.”
    Don’t stop, she begged silently.
    Don’t stop.
    Augusta spread her legs, and he slid his finger deeper inside her body. She adjusted to accommodate him, her head falling back, whatever will she might have summoned completely lost. He brought those fingers without shame to his lips to taste her as she watched.
    “Sweet as honey,” he said huskily.
    Augusta’s heart hammered. “I want you inside me,” she said desperately.
    It wasn’t like her. She was not that girl, but she felt completely carnal and open in his presence, unjudged, uninhibited.
    She didn’t have to ask again.
    He dragged her under the pier where it was darkest—where they would be shielded from prying eyes—passing her shoes in the sand. Somehow he unzipped his pants before he had her on the ground. And he covered her, shoving himself inside her.
    At the time it had felt so right.
    She had never experienced such an overwhelming desire in all her life—never. Her body was like a puppet dancing to his every look, his every touch. She could no more have walked away in that moment than