Doctored Vows (Marital Privilages #1) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Marital Privilages Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
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Maksim appears seconds from answering my inner thoughts, but before he can, a familiar voice sounds out of the speaker above our heads. “I wouldn’t bother knocking if the elevator was still rocking, but since it’s not, I thought I should tell you that security has your 4:30 appointment in the foyer, waiting for the elevator.” Even during work hours, Zoya still acts like a prepubescent boy.

“Thanks, Zoya,” Maksim replies, miraculously standing.

I want to whine like a fifth grader when he carefully slides out of me after setting me on my feet. I just can’t get any words through the lust clogged in my throat when I realize his cock never seems to go down. It is as thick and lengthy as it is when he thrusts it inside me, just a little floppier.

“If you don’t quit gawking, Doc, I’m gonna clear my schedule for the rest of the day.”

My eyes snap to Maksim before they shoot to the camera in the corner of the elevator when Zoya moans, “Keep looking, Doc. I’m about ready for round two.”

The camera isn’t flashing, and Maksim’s grinding jaw announces he wouldn’t even let my best friend watch our sexcapades, but that doesn’t stop me from shoving my feet into my scrub pants and yanking them up like we have an audience before asking, “Were you listening in?”

“No,” Zoya immediately replies, conscious of where my suspicions lie. “But I didn’t need to hack into the building’s servers to hear you. You were moaning loud enough for half of Myasnikov to hear.” When my cheeks heat so fast she hears their boil over whistle out of my ears, she laughs. “I’m joking. I only joined the party two minutes ago because Ano was too chickenshit to interrupt you guys.” I realize Ano must be close to her when she cups the microphone before repeating her statement to the accused. “You were totally chickenshit.”

While muttering something under his breath about firing his staff and starting anew, Maksim hits the emergency stop button on the elevator panel, jolting it back into gear, before requesting Zoya have the security officers take his guest to his office. “Tell Francesca I will join her in the boardroom once I have Nikita settled.”

“Francesca?” Zoya and I ask at the same time.

Maksim pays Zoya’s grumble no attention. “Doc…” For one short word, he takes an extremely long time to deliver it. “I fuckin’ love when you get jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

I glare at the now blinking contraption in the elevator’s corner when Zoya’s pfft rumbles louder than Maksim’s grumbled denial.

Thankfully, I’m saved from the disadvantage of a two-against-one fight when the elevator dings, announcing its arrival at our floor.

I race out of the car that smells of sex and desperation, only just making it to the door of our apartment half a second before Maksim’s sweat-dotted chest warms my back.

When his lips brush the shell of my ear, I’m putty in the hands of a sex god in mere seconds, so we won’t mention how weak my knees become when he growls against my neck, “It’s too late to run, Doc. I warned you the last time you got jealous that it would be the only time I’d fuck it out of your system in under an hour.” His following sentence has a double meaning, making me more than eager to gauge its authenticity. “I’m a man of my word. It is about time you learn that.”

Once we’re in the safety of our apartment, he shreds my scrubs off me even faster than he did in the elevator. Then, just as swiftly, he falls to his knees and drags his tongue up the seam of my pussy, buckling my legs out from under me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

My eyes roll skyward when Zoya’s breathy chuckles sound out of my iPhone.

“What?” she asks when I glare at her snickering face. “You’re planning to stuff a dress that costs”—she ponders for a moment—“three to four thousand dollars into a knapsack that costs ten.”

“It’s a backpack.” I freeze when my sluggish head finally absorbs the entirety of her statement. “How much did you say this dress is worth?”

I’m packing for Aleena’s wedding, and although I could have rummaged through my clothes on the freestanding rack in my grandmother’s room, my lusty head accepted one of Maksim’s many offers to take some of the clothes he had purchased for me when our apartment was remodeled.

The dress I chose is gorgeous, but I can’t wear it if it costs more than my first car.

What if I spilled something on it?

“Don’t you dare,” Zoya shouts at her phone screen when I remove the red ensemble with a daring thigh-high split from my packing stack. “You’ll steal the show with that dress.”

“Even more reason for me to put it back. This weekend is meant to be about Aleena.”



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