Crash Into You Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
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Small punishing bites to my bottom lip set off a series of detonations in my lower belly. The painful knot vanishes, replaced by liquid flame. Cam pulls me closer, one hand on my nape, angling my head as he plunges his tongue into my mouth, claiming me in the middle of the UCLA campus. Another deep groan vibrates in his chest as my tongue twines with his. He tastes like mint and cherries, a combination quickly unraveling me. My body aches, screaming to feel his big hands on my naked flesh.

I want him. For his sake, I shouldn't, but I do. So much it's killing me.

"Please," I beg, not even sure what I'm asking for as he pulls back to nibble on my bottom lip again. I push myself closer, until the hard ridge of his erection presses into my stomach.

"Fuck," he mumbles, his hand now fisted in my ponytail while the other roves over my ass.

A sharp whistle sounds from the left.

"I got next!" someone shouts. "We'll take turns tapping that fine ass."

"Hell yeah," someone else says, laughing loudly. "I'd fuck the bitch right here."

In a blink, Cam's mouth is gone from mine. He jerks me behind him, hiding me from sight as he spins on the group of guys cheering and making disgusting comments a few paces away. All I can see past his broad shoulders are snatches of hair and body parts.

"What the fuck did you just say?" he snarls.

The group falls quiet as if sensing the menace rolling from him. His muscles are bunched, his feet planted, and his hands clenched. Violence hangs thick in the air around him, unmistakable in its intensity. One wrong word, and he's going to seriously hurt someone.

"Cam," I murmur, placing my hand on his back. "It's okay."

He shrugs me off and points at the clustered group. "You don't ever talk about a woman like that," he says, voice deathly quiet. "Especially not my woman, you feel me?"

My heart flutters when he calls me his woman. I like the sound of that. A lot.

"He's a cop," one of the guys whispers, obviously noticing the badge hanging from a chain around Cam's neck.

"Sorry, Officer," another one mutters. "We were just kidding."

Cam ignores the platitude, homing in on the guy who spoke first. "You treat women with respect. Calling a woman a bitch doesn't make you a man. Sexually harassing one doesn't make you look cool. It makes you a stupid ass little boy who needs to grow the fuck up. Mind your own fucking business when you see a woman kissing her boyfriend, and don't ever make an ignorant comment like that again. Next time, you'll be lucky if you walk away breathing," he growls. "Get the fuck out of here before I take your sorry ass in for sexual harassment."

We stand in silence as the group hurries away, subdued. When they're lost to sight, the sound of their footsteps completely faded, Cam still doesn't turn around to face me. I contemplate touching him again, but quickly decide against it. He's furious and I know damn well all of that anger isn't because some idiot offered to fuck me on the sidewalk. He's mad―livid―at me for running off.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

My apology seems to break the spell holding him in thrall. He spins to face me, his cheeks flushed with anger. His eyes snap as he looks at me, fury roiling in the depths again. I expect him to yell at me for running off, but he doesn't. His gaze flits across my face, softening incrementally, and then he grabs my arm in a gentle vise.

"Let's go," he barks, already striding away.

I want to go with him. Regardless of what the desire says about me, I think I'd follow him to hell itself, especially when he looks at me with his eyes a contradiction of hard and soft and snaps orders like he fully expects me to obey. Like he's used to being obeyed without question or complaint. His confidence is sexy as all hell.

"No," I say anyway, planting my feet and resisting so he either has to drag me with him or stop walking. As pissed off as he is though, he's not the kind of guy who would drag me away kicking and screaming.

He stops and turns to me. Something familiar flares in his eyes. Desire. A predatory gleam lurks there, dilating his pupils. I think it turns him on when I disobey him.

"Don't fuck with me right now, kitten," he warns me, his voice a low rumble. "I'm about two seconds from pulling my dick out right here on the sidewalk, regardless of who's watching."

God help me, but this man is going to be my undoing.

I lick my suddenly dry lips, instantly drawing his gaze to my mouth.

"That fucking mouth," he groans and then tugs on my arm again as if to get me moving.



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