Truly Mine – Carmichael Security Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)

When the man of her dreams decides to fight fire with fire, this curvy girl might just go down in flames…

The moment I set eyes on Emma Cooper, I knew she was meant to be mine.
Unfortunately, my shy little lamb loves the word no.
She’s been rejecting me since day one.
So I’m breaking out the big guns and fighting fire with fire.
She’s got too much on her shoulders.
Mine were made to support her hectic world.
By the end of the week, this curvy goddess will be mine.
Even if I have to lie my way into her life and charm her whole damn family first.

Hot, bossy, and relentless. That’s Zayne Carmichael.
And the crazy man has his sights set on me.
He has no clue just how different our lives really are.
He owns his own private security company.
I spend half of every day chasing after my grandma and her sister.
Believe me, it’s more complicated than it sounds. They’re both eighty going on eighteen.
I know Zayne’s lying when he says I’m in danger, but he insists on following me anyway.
Fine. He wants to play that game? I’ll let him.
If he hasn’t fled by the end of the week, it’ll be a miracle.
There’s just one problem.
The longer I spend with him, the less I want him to flee.

If you enjoy over-the-top men, steamy, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy, age gap romance, and sassy heroines, you’ll love Zayne and Emma’s story.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One


"Crap, crap, crap."

I hide a smile behind my coffee as the curvy, raven-haired beauty picks her way across our tiled lobby in heels, wobbling like a young girl trying the shoes on for the first time. She huffs and mumbles to herself the whole time, complaining that she should have worn normal-people shoes. It's cute as hell.

I don't know why the fuck she is, but she's had my interest since she stumbled through the doors. She's stunning in a way that has my dick trying to forget that my brother is standing right beside me, prattling on about some new client.

Shit. Is she who Zion's been telling me about? I stopped listening long before she wobbled in.

But if she needs protection, I'm all over her. I mean it.

"Who is she? I want to protect her," I say, interrupting whatever the fuck Zion's saying about Adrian Kane, who used to play football for the Titans. What he has to do with anything, I don't know. He lives in a tiny town in Florida. That's not exactly close to Nashville. I'm all for expanding our private security firm, but I don't think Spring, Florida, is the location we're looking for.

Zion finally clues in on the fact that I'm not listening to a word he says and gives up talking my ear off. I don't know why he tries to tell me any of this shit anyway. I never listen.

I spent half of my life in the military. We weren't paid to ask questions. We were paid to solve problems. I don't need to know who I'm protecting. I just need to know what I'm protecting them from.

I'm not a stupid man. I'm just a simple one. Give me a job, and I'll get it done. If they want someone to blow smoke up their asses or sugar-coat the truth, I'm not the guy for the job. But if they want to make it out alive, I'm the one they call. I don't need to know a client's life story to do what needs doing.

I'm not soft and sweet. I never have been. But I know about eighty ways to kill a man. At the end of the day, that's what counts in my book.

Besides, we've got Gideon for clients who require a softer touch. He may look mean enough to spit nails, but he can make anyone feel safe.

Zion's exasperated sigh tells me maybe I should have been paying attention this time.

"I swear to Christ, Zayne. One of these fucking days, you'll actually listen to me."

"Well, that day ain't today, motherfucker." I smirk at him before taking another sip of my coffee. "Doubt it'll be the day hell freezes over, either."

He raises his hand to scratch the side of his face with his middle finger before he steps forward to meet our guest, leaving me standing there to stare at her.

I take the time to admire every inch of her. Coal-black hair tumbles in waves down her back, framing her heart-shaped face and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Her shirt only has one sleeve, leaving her other arm and shoulder bae. Her skin looks soft as hell. And if her jeans hugged her curvy ass any tighter, it'd be a war crime.

Fuck me. She's pretty.

"Emma Cooper?"

My little lamb startles, nearly tripping over her own two feet.

My little lamb? What the fuck?

"Yes. Hi," she squeaks, a pretty blush painting her cheeks. "Um, are you Gideon?"

Our middle brother, Gideon, took a last-minute meeting with a country musician in need of security for some charity event.

"Zion," he says, extending his hand.

"The one Ma was supposed to swallow," I say loud enough for Zion's hearing aid to pick up.

She takes his hand, her gaze bouncing to me and then back. Shit. I think she heard me, too.

I hold her gaze, unrepentant. If she had two younger brothers, she'd probably wish her mom had swallowed them, too.

"Ignore him," Zion suggests, turning to scowl at me over his shoulder. "Everyone else does."

Ignore me? Oh, hell no.

I plop my cup down on the edge of my desk and stomp forward, not willing to be ignored this time. If she's here to hire us, my schedule is suddenly clear as glass. Gideon can have Adrian Kane or whoever Zion wants us to babysit next.

We have a rule about dating clients. It's something we all agreed we wouldn't fucking do. Ironic, considering none of us have even dated in longer than any of us should probably admit. But if this lamb needs help, I need to solve the problem quickly. The "no dating" rule doesn't apply to former clients.

"Hi, Ms. Cooper," I say, elbowing Zion out of the way. "My name is Zayne Carmichael. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hi," she whispers, her gaze darting from me to Zion and then back. I don't miss the way the pulse in her throat jumps as she looks at me. It damn sure doesn't do that when she looks at my little brother…though little may be a misnomer. The fucker is bigger than I am.