Rowdy or Not (To Tame a Burly Man #4) Read Online Frankie Love

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Novella Tags Authors: Series: To Tame a Burly Man Series by Frankie Love
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Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
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It’s like looking into the future for me. It’s what I want for Nicole and myself. To love and care for one another even as we turn old and gray. And looking at my love? It will happen. Barring any unfortunate tragedies, such as the one that claimed my mother, we’ll be together, holding one another, until we turn from young, giggling twenty-somethings to middle age to old to absolutely ancient.

When I’m a hundred and twenty years old, unable to see, barely kept alive by a ventilator, I’ll still be happy as long as she’s right there beside me.

We present Mr. and Mrs. Claus with their Fall Ball crowns, and they are overjoyed. The crowd is raucous, cheering madly.

I pull Nicole into my arms to embrace her and steal a kiss from her. Our job is done, and the duties of royalty are now this couple’s problem.

We walk back to my truck, me looking at her.

She glances right back at me, knowing exactly what she wants.

We head back to my cabin. It’s still our home, if only for now. We both agreed that such a small place isn’t a long-term solution, being nowhere to raise a family.

Fortunately, my cousins run a construction company, and were all too happy to cut us a deal on building us a good family home that’ll last us the rest of our lives, and even our children’s lives. Such a project takes time, though, so for now? As small as the cabin is, it’s home.

The fire is crackling, and I tend to it. Nicole is in the kitchen, frying up some meat, the spices she’s using filling the house. I recognize that smell.

Tacos. Of course.

It’s the one-year anniversary of the day we ran into one another at the festival, two awkward people in ridiculous costumes, only to find out that we went perfectly together.

Nicole has spared no expense. Hot shells, sour cream, pico de gallo, plenty of salsa. And just like that day, we have fresh guacamole to go with the tacos and make them all the more perfect. It’s a fantastic dinner with plenty of spice, and the fact that it’s shared with her is all the better.

It’s not long until we are back on the sofa, enjoying our post-dinner food coma. She’s lying heavily on my chest, and I’m caressing her hair.

“You never stop surprising me, you know,” I tell her.

“I’ve made you plenty of wonderful food before. Tacos, even. Why are you surprised by this?”

“Oh, not that. Although yes, they were fantastic. But in this case, what surprised me was how adorable you are after you pigged out like that.”

“Tread carefully with those words, Nelson Rowdy.”

“I mean it. You’re adorable. And you know I love a girl who can eat. You’re always the right size for me, babe.”

She shakes her head, her amused disbelief so strong. “Well, I am eating for two now.”

I hesitate. “Wait... you mean…?”

“Let’s just say you’ve stuffed me so many times that now I got a little burrito growing inside me, Nelson. You know, your personal brand of guacamole...”

“Of all the things to compare cum to, guacamole isn’t one I ever thought I’d hear.”

She shrugs. “The metaphor worked a lot better in my head.”

I pull her close and kiss her. We giggle, our breaths still smelling so strongly of tacos.

She responds by unbuttoning the top of my shirt, and straddling me, then pulls her shirt over her head to let her tits fall free.

It’s hardly anyone’s idea of the sexiest situation possible. But for us? One another is all we need.

My hands are on her hips, my hardness rubbing against her sex, yearning for the fabric in between us to be removed.

It would be in time.

I can’t wait to have her.

I’ll yearn for her always and forever. My love, my beauty...

The guacamole to my taco.

So wonderful together.

EPILOGUE 2

NICOLE

“How about this one, Mommy? It’s really, really big!” Our four-year-old tries to lift the gigantic pumpkin off the ground.

She doesn’t make much progress, but her attempts are absolutely adorable.

“I think we should pick something a bit more moveable, Nelly.”

“But I thought bigger is better.”

“It’s about what we do with it, sweetheart,” I snort. She’s too young to know what that means, but one of these days I’m going to have to watch my words.

We’re at the Burly pumpkin patch. I want a few decently sized pumpkins to carve up for jack-o'-lanterns for both my garden shop and our home.

“What about this one, then?” she says, grabbing a super small mini pumpkin.

“Too far in the other direction. We need to find something in the middle.”

“Okay.”

She’s vibrating with energy. She’s so excited about Halloween. We told her she’d get to help with the jack-o'-lanterns, and that she’d get to go trick or treating this year. When she asked what that meant, Nelson told her she could dress up as a witch with a huge hat and people would give her candy.


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