Crow Read Online A. Zavarelli (Boston Underworld #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
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My breaths are coming hard and fast when he reaches for the Patron. He downs the shot, and then he’s leaning forward again, his lips wet and his eyes feral as he glances at the lime between my teeth. He smashes it between us, and I taste a hint of the salt and tequila before the lime falls away and there’s nothing but our lips crushing together.

I’m grabbing his hair and moaning against him when his tongue invades my mouth. I can’t tell anymore if I’m trying to push him away or pull him closer. I don’t like this. I never wanted any of this. So why do I need more?

I don’t know the answer to that question, and I don’t have time to think about it either. He pulls away briefly, preparing another shot. This time for me.

“Lick.” He holds out his wrist, and I obey slavishly.

He salts it like a pro and I suck on him the way he did to me. His skin is soft and warm and delicious. He groans and the sound alone nearly makes me have a seizure on the desk. I have no idea what’s going on with my body. Lachlan retrieves the ice cube from his empty glass with his fingers and rubs it against my lips. On instinct, they part, but not before some of the water drips down my throat. I arch up as he gingerly places the cube on my tongue and steals another kiss. The heat from his mouth and the cool of the ice combine to push me to an edge I’ve never been before. It feels foreign and strange.

I want to devour him right here and now. But he pulls away, insistent on me taking my shot.

“Drink.” His voice is rough, his eyes heavy with lust.

He watches me as I drink everything he gives to me, our eyes never leaving each other’s. The tequila goes down with a pleasant burn, followed swiftly by the juice of a lime. This time he squeezes it down my neck and between my breasts.

I’m panting again when his lips find my neck and lick and suck their way down. I want to get a grip, but then I don’t. I think this is what I was supposed to do. What I planned on doing, but I can’t think straight with his hands and mouth on my body. What was the plan again?

One of his hands is drifting lower, right between my thighs.

“Spread your legs,” he demands.

I do. Jesus. I fucking do it, just like that. I’m not even thinking straight.

I don’t know how, but his fingers are inside of me within seconds. And I’m soaking wet, I can feel it against him. He makes a sound in his throat as his mouth comes down to my breast and sucks it inside. It drives me insane. It feels too good. I think I must be delusional. Nothing’s ever felt so good.

This is all unchartered territory for me, but not for him. A part of me wonders if it’s always this way for him. And then I’m getting unbidden and unwanted flashes of him doing this same thing to Mandy.

I’ve got no frigging clue where it comes from, but the next thing I know I’m muttering something I shouldn’t.

“Mandy…”

“What?” he pauses to look up at me.

I arch up into his hand and urge him to keep going. “I don’t want you to touch her again,” I sneer.

I realize my mistake the moment it’s out of my mouth. He said one night. Fun only. That’s all I wanted too, I think. But he doesn’t get angry at my demand. His eyes spark with satisfaction and possession as he goes back to his ministrations with full force. I can hardly see straight, and I’m making all kinds of embarrassing noises. Lachlan must like them because he is too.

The orgasm blindsides me with its intensity and I collapse back against the wood, feeling like I still haven’t gotten nearly enough. He climbs on top of me and reaches for his zipper as his lips find mine.

“Ye’re so goddamn wet for me, sweetheart,” he grunts. “Tell me ye want me inside of you.”

“I do,” I agree. “I want you inside of me.”

A long slow groan leaves his throat and one of his hands is roaming over my body while he tries to undo his zipper with the other. I reach down to help him, brushing the swollen heat beneath the material.

“You feel that?” he rasps. “Feel how hard I am for ye, butterfly. Ye’re going to take care of that for me.”

“Yes. Please, Lachlan…”

And then everything just stops. I can barely hear over the music, but someone’s knocking at the door.

“Fack off!” Lachlan chucks one of the glasses at the door and it shatters on impact.

I grin up at his lunacy, grateful I’m not the only one being affected this way. Still, the knocking continues, and he looks murderous as he sits back on his haunches. I’m still staring at the bulge in his jeans, too delirious to comprehend what’s being said.

“What the bleeding hell is so goddamn important?” he yells.

“The Armenians…”

It’s the only thing I hear before the sound of gunfire erupts throughout the building. The next thing I know, Lachlan is pulling me off the desk and pushing me into the corner.

“Stay here.” He whips off his jacket and pulls a gun from the back of his jeans.

I’m staring at him in disbelief as screams erupt from the front of the building. I don’t know what’s happening, because all of the blood in my body has gone south. One minute he’s fucking me with his mouth and fingers, and the next someone’s shooting up the place. I’m frozen in horror, which isn’t something I can recall ever happening before.

“Mack?” Lachlan snaps his fingers. “Did ye hear me? Don’t move!”

I can barely nod. He gives me one last glance, hesitating before he leaves the room. It’s not the first time I’ve heard gunfire. I lived in a bad neighborhood. It was bound to happen from time to time. Also, my dad used to come home with the occasional stray bullet lodged into his flesh somewhere. I even watched one of his guys bleed out on the kitchen floor because he was too stubborn to go to the hospital. But Jesus, I didn’t expect to be right in the middle of it. I’ve got no fricken’ clue what’s happening here. I fight with my hands, not guns.


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