Lost the Handle – Nashville Assassins Next Generation Read Online Toni Aleo

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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Emery Brooks is mine.

Once I convince her to wait for me.

Yup. This is all a huge clusterfuck.

Thankfully, the door opens, pulling me from my confusing thoughts, and Emery looks up, her eyes widening at the sight of me. Fuck, she’s so beautiful. Her eyes are glossy, not like she’s been crying, just shiny and happy. She’s tied her hair back, a few tendrils falling along her shoulders. She slowly shuts the door behind her before leaning against it, her chest jutting out, and from how much taller I am, I can tell she’s not wearing a bra. My cock roars to life, but I ignore his one-track mind and set her with a look that lets her know I’m not happy. Her brows pull together as she glances down the hall that I know is empty before looking back up at me. “Quinnifer.”

“Shut up,” I demand before crowding her body until her shoulders hit the door. She tips her head back so her eyes don’t break the connection we’re sharing. I know this is wrong. I know I need to put space between us, but I swear it’s as if we’re two magnets being drawn together. The kind that are difficult to break apart, no matter how hard you pull. My breath catches when I feel the heat of her sexy little body. I press my hand against the wall beside her head and lean in, my eyes never leaving hers. “You just can’t behave, can you?”

My hips press to hers automatically, and her softness against the hardest part of me has me groaning low in the back of my throat. Her eyes widen only a fraction before a sneaky smirk pulls at her lips. “When have I ever behaved?” she asks, her eyes burning like embers, and I’m begging to feel the sting. “Also, is this another moment when you ask me to behave, but you don’t really want me to?”

I shake my head free of the thoughts of her being my naughty little lovebug, and I glare. “You just couldn’t let me handle it. You know I will protect my family⁠—”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” she breathes, her voice all husky and sexy. “I know you’ve got your family. But Quinn, I’ve got you.”

My heart trips over itself. “I had it under control.”

“I don’t care. I won’t have anyone call what we have inappropriate.”

“But it is. Right now, this is inappropriate,” I grit out, and her eyes go wild. She takes a deep breath before lifting her hips to rub against mine. My eyes drift shut as I let my head fall to hers. Our breaths intermingle, and fuck, she’ll be my downfall.

But I always knew that.

I move my free hand up, pulling the hair tie free, letting it drop beside me as her hair tumbles over her shoulders. I reach out, wrapping her curls around my fingers and rubbing the silky strands. Her eyes never leave mine, her chest rising and falling almost violently as she watches me. I lean in, and her mouth parts as I bring her hair to my nose, inhaling deeply.

Cherry. Bergamot. Emery.

My eyes drift shut, and I breathe out shakily.

“You can change that,” she whispers, her breath hot against my lips.

It’s that comment that knocks me out of the lust-filled cloud that only Emery can suffocate me with. I pull back, dropping my hand from her hair, but I can’t bring myself to remove my hips from hers. I open my eyes and narrow them on her. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m marrying her.”

“No,” she almost begs. But that’s not Emery. She doesn’t beg. “Marry me.”

“Emery.” Now, I’m the one begging. “Stop.”

“No, you can’t rub your cock all over my pussy and then say you’re marrying someone else,” she throws back at me, her tone sharp and deadly. “You can’t tell me I can’t carry your sister’s kid when she needs⁠—”

Once more, I snap. My free hand comes up, collaring her neck as I lean in, my nose pressing into hers. We lock eyes, but I see no fear in Emery’s. Only pure lust. Fucking hell, this girl. With my voice so damn deep, so damn unsteady, I tell her, “You will not have my sister’s baby.”

“Why?” she demands, her eyes searching mine. “You’re marrying someone else. Maybe I’ll have her baby while you play house.”

My fingers bite into her skin, and she gasps, her hips arching into mine, her heat wreaking havoc on my cock. In nothing more than a whisper, I somehow get out, “You will do no such thing.”

“You keep telling me no, but not why,” she says, her hips rocking against mine, the friction of her hot center rubbing on my cock making me truly fucking nuts. “Tell me, Quinn. Tell me why it’s okay for you to marry someone else but not for me to carry your sister’s baby.”



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