Broken Strings – Rythm And Tempo Read Online Mila Crawford

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Taboo Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43681 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
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The longer her monologue continues, the bigger my smile.

“What the fuck are you smiling at? This isn’t funny.”

“No, you’re right, this isn’t funny, but you’re sexy as sin when you’re mad.”

She looks outraged. “Are you hitting on me?”

“We could start with dinner. I’m off tomorrow night. Pick you up at seven. I assume you’re staying at the Holiday Inn.”

“You’re arrogant, you know that?”

Heat radiates between us as I move to stand in front of her. Her breathing increases when I dip my mouth next to her ear. “Not arrogant, darlin’. Confident,” I whisper. “Besides, I’m pretty sure my brand of cocky is something you’ll be screaming for. So how about you give me your name?”

“Cashleigh…but most people call me Cash.”

“Cash isn’t the name I would have chosen for you. A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a name that hard.”

She smiles and pushes her body against mine. “Looks can deceive darlin’, especially when this pretty little thing likes it hard.”

“Hard is something I can do better than those pathetic NYC boys you’re used to, darlin’.”

Chapter Four

Cash

“And that’s supposed to mean what…?” My breathy reply betrays my rattling heart.

His blue eyes watch me intently, making my stomach flip in the most obscene way. I’ve never been so irritated and turned on by another human being.

“You sing like a sparrow.” He slips strands of my hair between his fingers like he’s flipping the conversation, sending cartwheels cascading through me. “And are a helluva lot prettier than anyone I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Keep it together, Cas.

“So pretty that I can’t help but think of all the ways I’d like to unravel every perfect little inch of you, revealing all the ugly you try to hide from the world. I’ll make you belt out my name like it’s the last song you’ll ever sing.”

His lips hover a breath from mine, and his sexy blue eyes dance across the angles of my face. He pauses, licking his lips before a cocky grin turns up the corners of his perfectly full mouth.

“You’re one cocky son of a bitch.”

“I told you, darlin’, I’ve got cocky down pat. There’s so much cock that I don’t think your pretty little ass will handle it.” His fingertips blaze a trail down my waist, whispering under the edge of my waistband. I clamp my eyes shut. His other hand slips against my bottom before his lips connect with mine. “I’m giving you a sample, darlin’, and by the looks of you, you’re itching for more.”

He probes my lips open, tasting me in defiant strokes before his hands are on my skin, eating up the distance between my hips and my breasts, never quite touching where my body is begging for his caress.

“Wouldn’t you rather know how cocky I am right now?” His words hold a teasing lilt, and his eyes sparkle as he taunts and teases me.

He makes me want to buckle like a damsel in distress only to be caught in his muscular arms. He bites his bottom lip as he watches me, like a starved wolf, and I’m the little rabbit he wants to take a chunk out of.

“Mind telling me your name now you’ve had your body and lips plastered against mine?” I ask, mustering my steeliest glare. I want to be infuriated. I want to slap his pretty, smug face. But the bigger part of me wants to have that body and lips on me again until I forget everyone and everything and melt into oblivion.

“I don’t enjoy telling people my name.”

“Well, I don’t like to kiss strange men,” I lie, because I do like to kiss this man, perhaps a little too much.

“It’s Gunner Shaw, but my friends call me Gunner.”

“Well, Gunner Shaw, I can’t imagine you’ve ever kept a damn thing to yourself, despite what anyone else has to say about it.” I catch the door handle behind my back, pushing it open and ducking into the cool night air.

“Can’t decide if I like you comin’ my way or walkin’ away better.” He catches me in his arms, spinning me until I’m pressed against him again.

“What are you, the Shakespeare of cavemen now?”

“Me, Tarzan, you, Jane?” His words make me laugh before his grip on my elbows presses me tight against the slab of his well-built physique.

This time, I feel all of him. And he’s hard everywhere. The man isn’t lying; he puts the cock in cocky. I should be outraged, but the truth is, I’m far from it. I’m so turned on that I’m willing to suck his dick in the alley and thank him for the opportunity. Better yet if he turns on that Tarzan charm and drags me there screaming by my hair.

With the ridge of his thick monster cock pressed against my belly, I nearly come unglued in the bar parking lot. Something about the naughtiness of it makes me squirm.



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