Trace of Fever by Lori Foster

Author:Lori Foster
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Contemporary, General, Romance, Passion, Suspense, Fiction
ISBN: 9781459205307
Publisher: HQN
Published: 2011-05-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

“I WANT TO TALK TO her myself.”

Murray tangled his hand in Helene’s hair—and pulled. “Who are we talking about, sweet?”

She winced, but didn’t fight him. Her lip curled. “Priscilla.”

“Ah.” Murray loved how Helene always simmered near the boiling point, no matter the circumstances, no matter his mood or how rough or gentle he might me. “Jealous, much?”

Heat flared in her light blue eyes. “Jealous, not at all!”

“You’re a liar. I can see it.” He cuddled her big, firm breast. “You’re vibrating with hatred.”

Her lips parted as he found her nipple. “Hatred, yes. She’s trying to use you. I know it. I don’t trust her.”

Very softly, he asked, “You don’t trust me?” He applied more pressure to her nipple, tugged.

“Ah—God, I do, Murray. Of course I do.” She panted. “Always.”

“Then trust me to know what to do with little Priscilla Patterson.” Releasing her, Murray pushed her back and fumbled with his slacks. Submission always fired his blood. He loved it. He wallowed in his power. “It doesn’t concern you.”

Looking dismayed for only a moment, Helene stared at his crotch, then began working up the hem of her tight skirt.

She would willingly forgo her own pleasure in favor of blowing him. That attitude earned her a reward of sorts.

Murray stopped her before she dropped to her knees. “Raise your skirt more. Expose yourself.”

Confusion sharpened her features before she licked her lips and did as told.

A scrap of black lace covered her sex. With one hand Murray rubbed himself, and with the other he spread her blouse, exposing those magnificent tits.

Yeah, that look suited her. It needed only one more alteration…. “Drop your panties.”

Helene shook back her long, glossy black hair. “All right.” Slipping her thumbs beneath the waistband, she eased the material over her notable hips and down her thighs.

She would have stepped free of them, but Murray shook his head. “Leave them there, around your ankles.”

Getting into the game, she asked, “You like that?”

Yeah, he liked it. He stroked himself faster, harder. “Bend over my desk.”

Her extraordinary rack expanded as she sucked in a deep breath. Exhilaration scalded her cheeks.

“Well? Don’t just stand there. Get on with it.” He kept his gaze on her sex, already damp with wanting him. “I have shit to do before Trace gets here.” And no way in hell would he do any of it with a boner.

Not when Helene was kept around for this very purpose.

She let out a moaning, shuddering breath and hurried to obey. Making a show of it, she flattened her hands on the desk and slowly slid forward until her chin nearly rested on the surface. Arching her back, she spread her legs as wide as she could with the restrictive material hobbling her ankles.

Breathless, she asked, “Like this?”

“That’ll do.” Now that she’d positioned herself, Murray stood back to look at her. He could see her getting wetter, and it incited his lust. “So you want to talk to Priscilla?”

She went still, then began panting. “Yes.” Her flesh shimmered with excitement.

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