Power House (Men of Action #2) Read Online Ahren Sanders

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Action Series by Ahren Sanders
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
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“Really?” I cock an eyebrow, wanting more.

She straightens and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “It’s time.”

That one statement speaks volumes, and I lean down, pulling her face close and smacking a kiss on her forehead.

“Yes, sweetie, it is time.”

The receptionist gasps, and I fall back, swinging my head in the direction of the door.

My heart actually stops, and I have a hard time breathing. Major stands there, all six-foot-four of his solid, muscled frame taking up the doorway. His gaze is lasered in on me, his lips curled in a breathtaking grin.

I think Achilles is behind him, but the man prowling my way holds my attention captive. The room is silent as he drops, kneeling at my side and taking my hand.

“Hey,” I croak.

“Hey to you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Came to get your keys.”

“My keys?”

“Yeah, I’m heading over to your place to get dinner started.”

“You’re cooking dinner? I thought you wanted to talk.”

“Talk, eat, hang out, spend time together.”

Harley snatches my purse, finds my house keys, and tosses them to him. He catches them one-handed. I sit immobile as he closes in the space and brushes his lips over mine, lingering for a second to whisper, “Looking forward to tonight.”

When he pulls away, his phenomenal blue eyes are the color of sapphires.

Without a word, he turns to leave, my gaze dropping to his ass in the black jeans that mold to him.

Achilles kisses Harley, cupping her chin before following behind.

“Oh my God, I’m in heat.” Ginger rolls her glass over her forehead.

“Agreed,” Shayla toasts approvingly.

“I’m glad I didn’t miss this.” Tonda winks. “Totally understand the fuck me shoes last week.”

“This is only the beginning,” Harley chirps excitedly.

The haze lifts and I can’t help myself. “I said no kissing!” The shout echoes through the salon and is followed by a roar of giggles.

I’m so screwed.

My front door taunts me, daring me to open it. Knowing who’s on the other side and what tonight could mean has my body in a ball of nerves. Which pisses me off because I don’t get nervy.

Facing a wife-beater in jail? Nope.

Confronting men and women twice my size? Nada.

Taking children away from their parents who threaten to kill me? Bring it on.

My mom always tells me I was born into this world ready to kick ass with nerves of steel. I considered it a prerequisite with my crazy family.

But right now, running is a great temptation.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to remember the calming routine Harley’s yoga instructor taught us. Maybe I should have attended more than two classes.

“It’s those damn girls’ fault.”

Great, now I’m talking to a closed door.

“What’s their fault?”

My eyes fly open, and the first thing I spot is the wall of muscle. When I raise my gaze to his, he’s grinning with amusement.

“What are you doing?”

“Stopping you from running.”

“I’m not running! This is my house.”

“Then why are you standing outside the door talking to yourself and looking like a cornered kitten?”

“As if,” I scoff childishly.

“Jewls.” His voice drops low, and he reaches out, brushing my hair to the side and cupping my neck. “Cornered kittens are cute right before they turn into wildcats.”

His gaze darts over my shoulder, and in a flash, he swings me up, one arm under my knees, the other around my waist and pressing me close.

The door slams behind us, and he takes the few steps into the living room, sitting with me in his lap.

“Was that necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because the nosy old ladies that live around you are more effective than your shitty security system. They clocked me coming in, and two more seconds in plain sight, they’d have pounced.”

“They’re not nosy old ladies; they are my friends.”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe they are nosy, but their intentions are in the right place. They worry about me.”

“You close with them?”

“Umm, yes. Ronnie, Janice, and Bea are hilarious, and Ronnie kicks ass in Bunco.”

“Of course, your circle includes a band of geriatrics that probably hustle for their winnings.”

I snap my mouth shut, knowing Ronnie cheats like crazy.

His pleasure turns to full-out hilarity, and he smiles wide. My heart flips in my chest at the sight. Before I can stop myself, I run my fingers along his jawline.

“I’ve missed that.”

“Missed what?”

“Your smile. You didn’t do it often, but when you did, it made my heart happy. I haven’t seen you smile like this since you were hurt.”

At my words, I lose the beauty and he presses me tight to his chest. “I’ve been a dick, Jewls. It wasn’t you.”

“Ugh, the dreaded line. It’s not you, it’s me bullshit.”

“That’s a cop-out fucking excuse, but it’s the truth.”

“Explain.”

He leans back, threading his fingers in my hair and holding my face inches from his. All humor and playfulness are gone, and in their place is an expression of sorrow.


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