The Perfect Wrong Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
<<<<412131415162434>139
Advertisement


What did I just agree to?

If it weren’t for Dad’s text, I would’ve done it with a total stranger.

And not just any rando mystery man, but a tall, brash, heavily tattooed freak—the polar opposite of every clean college boy I’ve ever dated.

I don’t know if I’m sick or drunk or crazy, but I’m going to live up to my word.

Tomorrow, I’ll text him.

I can’t walk away when I’m this close to losing it with a man who makes my senses purr.

The next twenty-four hours already seem so bright, so lively, so vibrant I can practically taste it.

Tomorrow, I’ll eat light at the family thing. Hopefully I’ll breeze through the snorefest of meeting my new stepbrother.

Then I’ll get in touch with Chris.

Maybe he’ll pick me up and we’ll find a nice bar, maybe a quiet restaurant.

Or I’ll just let him decide.

Maybe we’ll head straight to his place.

It’s just one soul-stealing night.

It’s just awesome sex.

It’s not forever, right?

No, I’ve made up my mind.

There’s no way one more meeting with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Devilish can hurt. Especially if it involves me under him, discovering just how loudly he’ll make me scream.

For him, I want to sing.

I want to break.

And I want to leave us both in smoldering ruins.

4

Yellow Gold (Chris)

My last night in Syria wasn’t half as frustrating as this.

I stop halfway up the cliff, watching Princess Sweetass scouring the area around the bar for more miscellaneous beer bottles. I should have stayed and helped her longer, but then my dick never would’ve let me leave.

She’s a tiny silhouette in the low light, this night pixie.

How can a woman so small make my cock hammer like a jet engine?

Goddamn, I need to fuck this girl.

I need her so bad the next twenty-four hours until we meet again is guaranteed torture.

It’s barely been ten minutes and my brain won’t shut up, fixated on all the ways I’ll be in her soon, fisting those long, dark locks while I drink my fill of her lips.

I’m not a patient man, or generous, or even good when it comes to her.

My greedy ass wants it all.

Delia under me, up on all fours, sucking me off, riding me for dear life while I urge her on with harsh slaps on the ass.

I want her pulling lightning from my balls seven ways from Sunday.

Fuck.

It’s so vivid I can taste it.

I swear I didn’t show up on this beach shopping for fresh meat.

If I was that hellbent on getting pussy tonight, I could’ve just walked toward the fires and had my pick of the flirty college girls.

That’s not a brag. I just know my charms.

Women drop their panties in a heartbeat when you’re confident, built like a bull, and you know how to crack a joke.

And I’d have Delia’s lace panties stowed in my pocket already—or hell, stuffed in her mouth—if it hadn’t been for the goddamned phone.

Annoying.

Still, she’s worth a day’s torture.

I don’t want a random slut.

I want her.

Something about that sassy, too innocent mouth turns my crank infinitely harder than the random pretty young beach girl.

Maybe I’m just sick in the head like that.

Hard for the good girl begging for the right man to pull the sin right out of her.

Or maybe it’s just Delia’s perfect palm-sized tits, the way her hot little pussy came undone on my hand.

Remembering how hard I brought her off makes me kick sand as I walk, pissed that I’ve got a whole sleepless night ahead of me before I get to find out what she’s like when she comes for the third time in an hour.

The way she tried to keep up dancing and her awkward little laughs weren’t bad either.

I’m not sure what to make of her, and that’s part of the fun.

She didn’t kiss like a rich, pretentious little girl enjoying her latest hookup.

At first, I thought she was giving me a story about her sexless streak. She had to be exaggerating about that ’dry spell’ after a few drinks.

Then my mouth claimed hers, and I almost stumbled away with scorch marks.

No mistaking what I tasted. That’s a woman who’s been deprived, her passion telling a thousand truths.

Chemistry?

Fuck, we had an entire lab.

And I know I’m boned when I finally toss my diving gear in the back of my truck and I’m still obsessing over every naughty, nervous, and delectable smile hanging off her face.

I head back to my rental, this cozy new townhouse unit graciously funded by the company. Working for a premier firm like Enguard Security on their new mobile tactical team has its benefits, and not having to pay California housing costs is one of them.

I’ve kept the place deliberately spartan, even if I only started living there a couple months ago. Old habits from my SEAL days die hard.

Still, tonight the walls feel tighter, more claustrophobic after I arrive home. Even the default grey-and-white décor feels like it’s too much, especially this painting of an old church shaped like a castle overlooking an island sunset.


Advertisement

<<<<412131415162434>139

Advertisement