Twister: Party Games, Book 3 Read Online Free

That’s the first stupid deal I’ve ever known you to make. But I’m not going to argue. Even with the ridiculous salary you pay me I’d never afford a car like that. I thank you in advance.”
    Lachlan slid his stare to the sexual torment on the third stair. “I’m not going to lose, Mac.”
    He climbed the stairs in three strides, stopping only when he was on the woman’s rise, his thighs brushing hers, his stare locked on her eyes. She gazed up at him, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. And yet, a tiny pulse beat at the base of her long, smooth throat. Wild and fast. He could see it. It made his cock stiffen and his balls throb. “So,” her voice slipped past her glossed lips on a husky breath, “you are ready to play a game with me?”
    He stared hard into her eyes. Every nerve ending in his body thrummed. Every muscle coiled. “Are you the model Kole?”
    The smile at the corners of her mouth grew cheeky. “If I say I am, will you kiss m—”
    He claimed her mouth with his and invaded it with his tongue.
    She stiffened. For a second. A heartbeat. Just one, and then slid her tongue over his, battled it. Mated with it.
    Charged electricity poured through Lachlan. He growled into her mouth, captured her tongue and sucked it with demanding greed. She moaned in return, her hands finding his shoulders, his hair. Her nails raked against his scalp, her hips pushing forward until their lower bodies were together. Stomach to stomach, thighs to thighs.
    Lachlan drove his tongue back into her mouth, the wild taste of her kiss too intoxicating to deny. He grabbed her hips, holding her still, holding her to his erection as he deepened his hungry exploration of her mouth, her lips. They were so soft, so full under his and he groaned, his cock flooding with fresh desire. God save him, he hadn’t planned on kissing her. He hadn’t. But it was her lips…lips made to be ravished, worshipped. Lips created for kissing and fucking and biting.
    He did just that, catching her bottom lip with his teeth and giving a not-so-gentle nip.
    A shiver raced over her and she thrust her hips harder to his, rolling the warm curve of her sex—trapped behind the leather of her mini—to his cock. The pressure was unbearable. Exquisite. He raked his hands down over her arse cheeks, grabbed each one and hauled her closer to his dick.
    She whimpered, dragging her nails up his back, over his shoulders. She clung to him as she ground the junction of her thighs to his rigid, denim-imprisoned length and swiped her tongue over his.
    Lachlan’s head swam. His blood roared in his ears, pumped through his cock. He kneaded her buttocks—twin curves of toned perfection—and plundered her mouth until nothing existed but the sound of his heart slamming in his chest and the hitching moans of the woman in his arms.
    Kole.
    The model.
    Model.
    An icy fist of disgust smashed into Lachlan’s gut. He tore his mouth from her lips, jerking his hands from her arse. Christ, was he really so weak one woman could undo his control? A woman who may be exactly who she denied she was?
    He stared at her, face inches from hers, studying every stunning line and curve and feature. He finally saw what the shadows of the street had hidden from him—blue eyes that had entranced the world eighteen years ago, a slim turned-up nose thousands of women paid cosmetic surgeons the world over to acquire, cheekbones high and angular and exotic, lips full and sensual…
    Kole. The woman he’d just kissed on the stairs in plain view of anyone caring to watch truly was the model of his teenage fantasies. A model. Just like his superficial, money-grabbing stepmother.
    He bit back a growl, refusing to let her gaze go. “Why did you lie to me back on the street?”
    She cocked one finely arched eyebrow. “Who says I did?”
    Hot anger thumped in his temples. “I’m not an idiot, and we’re not standing in the dark anymore.”
    “Is there a problem if I am?”
    Lachlan’s