Cunning Vows – Lethal Vows Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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It’s all a mess. I want River more than I let on, and I want to stop fighting him. I want to let him in.

But it feels like I’m giving up the last of my power. Handing it over to him on a silver platter.

“You can leave now,” I tell him.

His hand pauses on my ass.

“I’ll stay,” he counters.

“No, you can leave.” I go to get out of bed, but he tightens his hold on me.

“Go to sleep, I won’t fuck you again till morning.”

“I don’t like to share my bed,” I tell him.

“Good, we aren’t sharing. We’re sleeping until I can fuck you again, and your anger calms down from hating me for making you miss your brother’s call. Let’s just call it a truce for today, Red. Aren’t you tired of fighting me all the time?”

Not in the slightest, but also yes. I’m exhausted from fighting how I feel about this man. I can’t form words right now. Instead, I let him pull me down to the mattress, our naked bodies touching as I hold my phone in my hand, not letting it go. Not daring to let it go in case Alek calls back.

It feels like I have to choose between the two of them.

Alek is the only person I’ve ever cared for. What happens when he returns?

Will he disapprove of River like the old bitch does?

“I hate this snuggling shit.” I lie because the truth is… it feels nice. Unusual in the way that I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. But nice. I feel like with River beside me, I won’t have to sleep with a gun in my top drawer. That no matter what, I’m safe. And that’s a dangerous notion in itself.

“Good night, sweetheart.” River kisses my shoulder, and I curl further into myself. I’m acting like some lovestruck girl. And maybe a small part of me is… in love with River.

And it’s terrifying.

CHAPTER 40

River

She is the most peaceful sleeper I have ever encountered. It’s as if she’s dead. If it weren’t for her chest rising, I would think she was dead. Not once does she drop that phone from her hand. I brush her hair from her face, pleased by the length of it freely cascading over the pillow.

“It’s kind of creepy to have you staring at me,” she says, still not opening her eyes.

“Tell me something about you and your brother.”

She turns to face me, our lips so close that I don’t have to lean in very far to taste them.

“Why would you want to know anything? You’re just here to fuck me.”

“Which I didn’t get to do. So entertain me,” I say, my hand stroking through her shining red hair.

“Hmm.” She considers me. “When I was six, our first foster father tried to touch me,” she says, her eyes locked on my face to see my reaction. I keep stroking her hair. “By that time, Alek didn’t like to be touched, but when he walked in to see our foster father trying to get in my bed… Well, let’s just say that’s when Alek changed.

“He ran at him. We were so small, so the man thought nothing of it, but Alek ran, and when he got close enough, the man put a hand out. Alek kicked him between the legs, making his hand drop to clutch his cock. Then Alek got closer and dug his fingers into his eye sockets.” She smiles at the memory.

“I’m a minute older than him, but somehow he always protected me until I could do it myself. When I was a teenager we returned to the man’s home and I finished what the six-year-old version of me couldn’t do.”

My hand pauses mid-stroke, furious that I wasn’t around back then to protect her. Although I despise the hell her brother’s putting her through now, I’m grateful he looked after her up until this point. Until she was rightfully in my arms.

“Sounds like you two had a very special bond,” I say.

She pulls back at my words. “Not had. We still do.”

“I didn’t mean…” She shakes her head and goes to pull away again.

“You should leave. This”—she waves between us—“is nothing more than great sex. Thanks for the gifts. Go home and see your mother.”

I sigh, exasperated by how closely she clings to her sentiment. That it’s so hard for her to be honest with me because she’s used to years of engrained self-preservation. Sometimes I find it cute. Other times, it’s annoying as hell.

“Will you come and meet her?”

“That’s a no. Why would I want to meet your mother? That’s weird.” Her nose scrunches up, and I find all of these expressions no one else gets to see, cute.

“It’s not weird,” I protest. “It’s what happens in a normal relationship.”

“One, we aren’t in a relationship. And two, what impression did I give you that I was normal in any way?” I lean in to kiss those lips. She doesn’t pull away, and I can’t help but smile as I kiss her. “You are so weird,” she says, feeling my smile and pulling away now.



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