Whiskey Smoke – Smoke Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)

Wealth, power, and privilege have always been a part of Levi Shephard’s life. However, it comes at a price. The darkness that surrounds being born into a family of organized crime has always kept him at a distance when it came to relationships. He only hooked up with women who understood the game and played along.

Born with a heart defect, Aspen Chance has been sheltered and raised by her religious grandmother. When her grandmother passes away, Aspen is left with no family- except her older sister who her grandmother had believed was headed straight for Hell.

Deep down Aspen hopes to reconnect with her sister while also being given the chance to experience more of life. Leaving the only home, she’d ever known behind she moves to Ocala, Florida to live with her sister. It doesn’t take her long to realize her sister was going to shelter her even more than her grandmother had.

One of the strippers that Levi enjoys occasional hook ups with is killed one night while a fight breaks out in the club. He might not have been able to prevent her death but he could save her younger sister. Aspen was everything her sister had young, naïve, and sheltered. When he realizes she’s also not well and has no one to protect her- he takes on the role.

What he swore was only a friendship in which he would make sure Aspen had everything she needed- he hadn’t expected her to end up sleeping in his bed due to her night terrors, or trusting him when it came to her health care and he sure as hell hadn’t been prepared when she wanted to experience pleasure. Meeting her needs takes on a whole new twisted meaning that he fears could destroy them both.

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Be worthy love, and love will come.

—Louisa May Alcott



Blinking, I sat up as the roar of motorcycles grew louder. The light from the television was all that lit the darkened living room. I reached for my cell phone to check the time. It was after two in the morning. Irish, my older sister, wouldn’t be home from work for another two hours. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the sofa, watching Dawson’s Creek, but since Irish had introduced me to it, I had gotten addicted. Television was something I hadn’t realized was missing from my life.

Stretching, I stood and picked up the remote to turn it off, wondering if Gran had ever watched anything on a screen a day in her life. She had believed it was evil, so probably not. It made me sad to think of all Gran hadn’t experienced in life. Death came for all of us at some point, and I wanted to soak in every adventure I could until that day came. Irish lived her life that way. Although Gran had died thinking Irish was headed straight for hell, I disagreed. I believed Irish was making sure not to waste a moment. God had to respect that.

A knock on the door startled me, and I stared at the door, unsure of what to do. Who would be knocking at this time? Irish hadn’t told me to expect anyone.

Quietly, I walked over to the window beside the door and peeked out. There were two motorcycles in the driveway. A man was on one of the bikes, but the other one sat empty. I shifted the curtain to see if I could get a glimpse of who was at the door. Black leather jacket and light-brown hair, pulled back in a man bun, were all I could see. It was intriguing. Very Sons of Anarchy. Another binge-watch Irish had put me on since I’d moved in here with her.

Irish had interesting men in her life. Living vicariously through her stories was what had gotten me through some of my darker times. Being the sickly younger sister had caused me to miss out on a normal high school life. There had been no going off to college and frat parties for me either.

Unable to help my curiosity, I moved to the door and unlocked it, then opened it to face the man on the other side.

With the porch light illuminating his face, I sucked in a breath. Hazel eyes stared at me under thick, dark lashes. He had a short beard, just enough to be sexy, and lips that made me want to stare at them. It was tempting to reach out and touch them.

“You’re definitely not Kitty,” he drawled in a deep voice that made me shiver.

Kitty was my sister’s stage name.

I shook my head as I soaked in the sight of the man in front of me. “She’s at work,” I replied softly.

He raised an arm and leaned on the doorframe as his eyes raked down my body with what I thought was approval. I had very little experience with men, except for the romance novels I read—and I didn’t think those were very accurate. According to Irish, real men were nothing like the ones in books. Although he sure looked like one of the guys in the books I read.