Blame it on the Vodka (Blame it on the Alcohol #3) Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blame it on the Alcohol Series by Fiona Cole
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
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“Yes, ma’am.”

Thankfully, Bodie didn’t argue, and I’d never been so happy to close the door on him than ever before—for the last time.

The lock clicked loudly in the empty apartment—I was alone. Finally.

The chaotic storm fled my body, taking my fight with it.

I collapsed to the floor. My chin dropped, and my hair hid my face. It was only then that the tears came.

How had I gotten there? How had I reached a place I’d vowed to never ever be in? I’d watched my mother crawl her way out of a life she hated when I was young, and I swore I’d be stronger. I swore I would never let anyone break me. I swore I knew better.

It hadn’t started this way. It started as one night. Usually, that was it before I went looking for someone else, but a couple weeks later, it happened again. Then someone snapped a picture of us before dinner. It was only after the reporter dug into his background that I realized what an asset he could be. Socialite Raelynn Vos Dates the Good Guys, Turning the Numbers Up for Kenneth Vos. It was through various outlets that I discovered he was a pastor’s son, the perfect date for all the events my dad needed us to attend to boost his campaign.

Bodie had been distant at first, almost uncaring, while he focused on starting his career at a new law firm. It’d been the perfect arrangement. A commitment for the papers without an actual commitment that took too much from me. Then things changed.

Somehow Bodie slipped under the radar. He used slow tactics and small changes that were almost undetectable until it was too late.

And I let it happen.

But I wouldn’t anymore.

Wiping away any evidence of my tears, I brushed my hair back and lifted my chin, raising myself back to my feet.

I was Raelynn Vos. No one fucked with me, and Vegas shined on the horizon—the perfect opportunity to prove it.

Chapter Three

Austin

For the five-millionth time during our flight, my eyes strayed from the movie playing on the tiny screen to the woman beside me. By the time the credits rolled, I couldn’t even recall the name of the movie I’d watched so little.

After all these years, you’d think I’d have had my fill of looking at her, but it was never enough. The last couple hours, I’d studied the way her lashes cast dark, alluring shadows along her sharp cheekbones. All of it softened by the pouty lips I could draw from memory. The lips I had drawn from memory more times than I could count. But it was never enough.

“Folks, we’re about twenty minutes out. The weather is sunny and a cool eighty-two.” The pilot’s announcement crackled through the speakers, halting my perusal of Rae when her eyes fluttered open.

I feigned interest in the random ads scrolling across the screen while simultaneously watching her readjust from the corner of my eye.

“Hey,” she said in the sexiest sleep voice.

An ache bloomed in my chest, both sharp and warm, when I took in her sleepy smile. She blinked, pulling me into her heavy-lidded, warm chocolate eyes. The ache grew, expanding to my cock when she stretched her arms high, pushing the full curves of her breasts against the simple white T-shirt. I almost laughed at the description. Nothing was simple on Rae.

“Sleep okay?”

She collapsed back, sinking into her seat. “Like a rock.”

“That explains the snoring.”

“Stop it,” she gasped, jerking her shocked face to mine.

“Don’t worry. I bought everyone drinks—on your tab—to make up for the horrid sound.”

“I hate you.” She laughed, knowing I was joking.

That’s the way it was between us, just two friends bantering back and forth. As much as I wanted her as my everything, being the guy who got this side of her wasn’t bad at all.

“Feel better after your nap?” I asked.

Rae showed up to the airport quieter than I’d ever seen her. When I asked if she was okay, she merely waved her hand, shooing the question away and adding a forced smile, assuring me she was fine. She’d barely looked at me while we waited for our flight, but I swore her eyes carried a tinge of red from crying. Everything inside urged me to push—to fight—but she kept shutting me down, and I had to respect it. I’d reminded myself that Rae was strong and didn’t take any shit. I didn’t have to worry about her.

Unless we were landing. Then the strong, fearless Rae openly showed signs of fear.

The hum of the wheels rumbled below, and as always, her slim fingers latched onto mine. Rubbing my thumb along the silky skin of her hand, I gave a reassuring squeeze, reminding her that with me, she was safe.

I fucking loved landing in planes with her.

By the time we got our bags, the Rae I knew and loved was back in full force. Even the quieter version that had made an appearance over the past year had vanished. This was the Rae from college—wild, crazy, and ready for anything.


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