Wicked Envy Read online Sawyer Bennett (Wicked Horse Vegas #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Wicked Horse Vegas Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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It takes them less than fifteen seconds to reach where I’m standing, halfway down the aisle, but it seems like an eternity. We’d rehearsed this once already with no hiccups, but still my palms sweat as her father turns her over to me. He claps me on the shoulder, and I take his place. Avril slides her hand into the crook of my elbow, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Ready,” she says, and we step off on the same foot as we walk toward Dane.

I glance to the left at Avril, and she’s got her eyes locked on her soon-to-be husband who is waiting at the altar for us. They had quite the fight over whether I was going to be the maid of honor or the best man, and I assured Avril I was not wearing some poufy pink dress.

They compromised, which is what you should do with the love of your life who is soon to be your partner for life, and decided I would walk her halfway up the aisle to turn her over to Dane. I don’t think her mom was all that crazy with the idea, ruining the tradition of a father giving his daughter away, but Avril was adamant about me being the one to give her to Dane.

The three of us are the only ones aware of the irony here.

I glance back to Dane, and like Avril, his gaze is focused and intense. His eyes run up and down, taking in her dress before landing back on her face. His expression is hungry, but not in a carnal way. No, he’s starved for Avril to be hitched to him permanently, which is the reason this wedding is taking place so quickly.

When we reach Dane, I’m prepared to take Avril’s hand and place it in his, but I’m stunned when he loops his arm around my neck and pulls me into a hard hug. I almost stumble into him, and then Avril’s being mashed up against us as his other arm pulls her in for a hug.

The three of us huddle together, a unit of solid friendship.

Then I pull away.

I take each of them by the wrist, and then bring their hands together where they clasp tight.

Then I step off to the side, on the groom’s side of course—because again, not going to be a maid of honor—and I watch my two best friends get married.

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