LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (find a book to read TXT) 📕

them last night when she’d removed the jacket to her spaghetti-strap dress.

“So, how’s the water?” she asked when she reached him.

“Wet.” He frowned as she spread a towel next to his. “I’m surprised to see you up before noon.”

“Vacations are too short to waste time sleeping in.”

He squinted against the sunlight while she tossed aside the cover-up, revealing a tiny, leopard-skin string bikini. “No ill effects from last night?” he asked as she started applying suntan oil to her arms, stomach, and legs.

“I never get hangovers.”

He dropped his head back with a groan. It should be illegal for someone to drink as much as she had and not suffer the next day. He hadn’t had anywhere near as much, and he’d awoken with a splitting head to add to his nagging guilt over his rudeness to Allison. At least the headache had subsided. Perhaps the guilt would too. In time.

“Wasn’t that a great club last night?” Linda said. “There’s just something about disco music.”

He nearly snorted as he remembered the retro bar they’d gone to, complete with mirrored ball over the dance floor, flashing colored lights, and dry ice. “Personally, I had enough of the Bee Gees the first time around.”

“You aren’t old enough to have been clubbing back then.”

No, but you probably are. When he’d first seen her yesterday, he’d thought she was about his age, maybe a couple years older. But the more he’d studied the hardness around her eyes and mouth, the more years he’d added to his guess.

“Do my back?” she asked.

With a sigh, he sat up and took the bottle of oil from her. She stretched out on her stomach and he stared in disbelief. The dragons and wicked-looking fairies didn’t just cover her upper back. They covered her entire back. “Aren’t you worried the sun will fade all that ink?”

“Tattoos don’t fade.” She laughed at him over her shoulder. “Aren’t they great? The artist really did a fabulous job.”

If you say so. He poured oil in his palm and started rubbing it in. It wasn’t that he objected to all tattoos. In fact, he’d seen some small, tasteful ones that were very sexy. But a whole back covered with fairies who appeared to be ... He peered closer. “What the hell?”

She smiled at him again, her eyes hooded with sexual knowledge. “What do you think?”

He stared at the ink fairies who seemed to be practicing some very kinky S and M bondage on the dragons. “Are they doing what I think they’re doing?”

“Ever try it?”

“Bondage? No.” He may have thought about it from a curiosity standpoint, but he’d never seriously considered trying it—even in the wildest days of his misspent youth.

She shrugged and laid her head down on her forearms.

He finished oiling up her back, and returned to his own beach towel with his back to the sun. The next time his agent suggested he take a vacation, he’d shoot the man. Nothing that had happened so far was remotely relaxing. Not returning to a place that stirred up old memories. Not his instant attraction to a woman who was entirely too innocent for him. And definitely not his night on the town with Dr. Strangelove.

“You know,” she murmured, as if already sleepy from the effects of the sun. “It was very sweet of you to play the gentleman last night, but it really wasn’t necessary.”

Oh yes it was. He wasn’t about to break a two-year stretch of celibacy with a woman who was slobbering drunk. “Don’t mention it.”

He tried to listen to the lapping of the water and enjoy the breeze against his skin. Maybe if he didn’t say anything, the woman beside him would fall asleep.

“So,” she said. “Have you ever wanted to try it?”

“Try what?”

“Letting a woman tie you up?”

“No.” Something like that required way too much trust from both partners for his comfort zone.

“Okay, no tying you to the bedposts, but how about ... spanking?”

He opened one eye. “Giving or receiving?” Not that either appealed to him.

She smiled slowly. “Receiving.”

“Okay, I’m out of here.” He stood, gathering his towel and shirt.

“Hey,” she called as he picked up his Top-Siders and headed for the inn. “I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

“You didn’t.” You turned me off. This whole trip had been a mistake. He might as well pack up his computer and head back to the French Quarter. At least he expected the women there to be weird.

First, though, he’d apologize to Allison. If he was leaving, there wasn’t any reason not to see her since she’d soon be too far away to tempt him. He’d just have to get through a few minutes without grabbing her and kissing her so hard and deep they both went weak in the knees.

He stepped into the cool relief of the central hall, and stood for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The inn was quiet, since the other guests were apparently out sightseeing. Should he seek Allison out now, or wait until he’d showered? Although, since the morning was fairly cool, and he hadn’t been down at the beach long, he was presentable. He might as well get it over with.

A noise to his left drew him into the gift shop, where sunlight drifted through the lace curtains. A colorful array of knickknacks and books filled the built-in shelves while porcelain teapots sat on a small linen-covered table. The smell of scented candles and those bags of leaves and twigs women seemed to like filled the air. Inhaling, he recognized the scent as Allison. It wasn’t perfume she wore, but the fragrance of her shop that surrounded her.

Turning, he saw a table displaying dolls with delicately painted faces and frilly dresses. He picked up one with curly black hair and bright blue eyes. How like Allison to sell dolls and tea sets.

“In the market for a doll?”

Ah, that voice. A tingle of arousal raced down his spine as he turned to face her. She stood in the corner with an