Kincaid – Cerberus MC Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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I don’t say a word as he opens his door, but secretly I’m thrilled at the idea of him holding me all night. I stop at the sight of the bed, picturing Bunny on it and suddenly not wanting to get anywhere near it.

“I haven’t been in here since that day, but I did change the bedding before I left.”

I look up at him in confusion.

“I’ve been at my house, Emmalyn. There was no point in being here if you weren’t next door.” He closes us into the room and flips the lock on the door. Only the faint beat of the music can be heard through the walls, and oddly I feel safe enclosed in here with him.

I stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, unsure of what to do next. I presume he has an expectation of sex this evening. Part of me wants that, and part of me is unsure if I can emotionally handle it since he’ll be leaving again tomorrow.

Sensing my unease, he steps close to me and raises my chin up with his finger. “How about you shower first?” He places a t-shirt in my hand. “Then I’ll shower.”

I take the proffered shirt and slide past him into the bathroom. I know he won’t come in here, but I lock the door behind me anyway. Piling my hair high on my head to keep it from getting wet, I pull the hair tie I always carry with me from my jeans pocket and secure it.

I strip out of my clothes and make quick work of getting clean in his shower, loving the fact that my skin now smells like his from the bar of soap in the shower. I towel dry and pull his t-shirt over my head. It hits me at the knees, but I still feel completely naked without any panties on. I squeeze my thighs together at the delicious thrill of sleeping in a bed with Diego wearing only an article of his clothing.

Opening the bathroom door, I scurry past him and climb into his bed. He chuckles and walks into the bathroom leaving it open with a gap. I turn over in the bed when I see his reflection in the mirror as he begins to strip out of his clothes. He could have easily closed the door behind him, but I give him his privacy regardless.

Less than ten minutes later I feel the bed dip behind me, and my body begins to tremble immediately. Anticipation, along with a wave of mild trepidation causes the slight quiver of all the major muscle groups in my body.

“Are you cold?” Diego asks as he settles in behind my back.

“No,” I answer honestly. “I’m nervous.”

“Nervous?” he asks. “There’s no need to be nervous, Emmalyn.”

Easy for him to say. I’m sure he has women in his bed all the time. I haven’t had sex in months, and other than losing my virginity to some bumbling boy my junior year in high school, Bobby is the only other man I’ve ever been with sexually.

“I’m not sure about… I don’t know what you want, Diego.” My voice is a whisper, but he’s so close to me, every inch of his front lined up with every inch of my back, I know he can hear me.

“This,” he says holding me slightly tighter. “This is what I want, Em.”

I release a light, contented smile, growing even fonder of him for not pressuring me to move faster than I’m comfortable with. I lay quietly in his arms with my eyes closed, reveling in the protective feel of his warmth, but I realize almost immediately that although I’m content where I am, I’m far from tired.

I shift my body and roll over so I can see him fully. He has one arm bent under his head, and he keeps his other one casually tossed over my waist. We spend several long minutes just taking each other in. I do my best not to focus on his mouth too long and let my eyes wander down his chest, noticing for the first time the small barbells piercing each of his nipples. I reach out and touch one delicately with the tip of my finger.

“I like these,” I admit, gaining a smile from him. His breathing pattern changes when I circle the brown disk of flesh. “You’re so tanned,” I say trailing my finger down his abdomen, smiling wider as the muscles jump and bunch at the attention.

“My mother was Puerto Rican. I have a pretty great tan year round.” His voice is husky, and the gruffness of it settles low in my own body.

I allow my fingers to travel lower, but his hand stops me before I reach the elastic band of his boxer briefs. “Emmalyn,” he chastises, but he eases the sting a bit by bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing the tips of my fingers.



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