Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bellamy Creek Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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She snuggled closer, putting an arm and leg over me. “If this turns out to be a dream, I’m going to be so fucking mad.”

I kissed the top of her head. “It’s not.”

“I wish I could go back in time and tell twelve-year-old me not to give up hope, that there’s a reason she has all those feelings for you that won’t ease up.”

I chuckled. “Did you really have a crush on me all the way back then?”

“Yes,” she said, laughing. “And it never ended.”

“Get out, you’ve had plenty of boyfriends over the years. And I secretly hated every one of them.”

“Did you?” She sounded surprised.

“Yes. I would tell myself it was just me being protective, but there was probably more to it. Especially that asshole you brought around at Christmas a few years ago. What was his name . . . Jake?”

She groaned. “Don’t remind me. I only dated him because he was the total opposite of you. I was trying to distract myself.”

“He pinched your ass at the tree lighting, and I wanted to fucking punch him in the face.”

Pushing back from my chest, she propped herself up and looked down at me. “You saw him pinch my ass at the outdoor tree lighting ceremony? In that huge crowd?”

I rolled onto my back and put my hands behind my head. “Maybe.”

“Were you watching me?”

“Maybe.”

Her face lit up, and she slapped my chest. “You were!”

“Well, I could tell he was an asshole. I felt like I needed to keep an eye on you. You know, for your own safety.”

She narrowed her eyes. “For my own safety?”

“Yes. Definitely not because I wanted to touch your ass.”

“Of course not. Because you were always a perfect gentleman.”

“Aren’t I still?”

“Well, I don’t know.” She pretended to think about it, tapping a finger to her chin. “Now that I know what you were thinking, I might have to reconsider my assessment of you.”

I reached out and grabbed her by the forearms, and she squealed as I flipped her beneath me. “Haven’t you been reconsidering it since the moment in my bedroom when you insisted on seeing my belt?”

A sly grin took over her face. “Oh yeah. That.”

“I warned you.”

“You did.” She wrapped her legs around me. “It was still a bit of a shock.”

“I remember. You tried to leave through the closet door.”

Her giggle warmed me all over. “God, that was embarrassing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“However, it took my fantasies to a whole new level. So thank you.”

I grinned. “Like the one where I arrest you for being a bad girl?”

She nodded, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “Uh huh.”

“That text message fucking blew my mind.” I leaned down and rubbed my lips against hers. “Will you do that again sometime?”

“Sure. I’ve got plenty of fantasies to choose from. There’s this one where you bust into the bedroom on Prom night where Brody Nichols is pawing me and trying to talk me out of my virginity, and you kick his ass. Then you pop my cherry for yourself, of course.”

My jaw was hanging open, anger shooting through my veins. “Wait a minute. Is any of that story true? Did that little shit Brody Nichols actually paw you?”

“Relax, it was years ago. I’m thirty, remember? And it was very minor pawing. Second base stuff.”

“I will fucking tear him apart,” I seethed. “I don’t care how long it’s been.” I’d never liked Brody Nichols—he’d been a jackass as a teenager, and he was still a jackass as an adult. “He deserves an ass-kicking.”

“He probably does, but it’s not necessary on my account. I handled it.”

“How?”

“I kneed him in the balls and told him to go fuck himself.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I cannot picture the sweet little Cheyenne Dempsey I knew doing that.”

“You didn’t know everything about me,” she said coyly, bringing her hands to my chest. Her fingertips teased my nipples, making my blood rush faster.

“That’s true.” I lowered my mouth to hers, protectiveness and possessiveness igniting the fire in me again. “But from now on, the only hands that get near you are mine.”

“Or mine,” she whispered, “while I pretend they’re yours.”

“We’re done pretending,” I told her, rolling onto my back and bringing her on top of me. “From now on, we’re the real thing.”

Sixteen

Cheyenne

Even my fantasies weren’t this good—and my fantasies had been pretty fucking awesome.

But this—this—his hands in my hair and on my skin. His mouth open against mine, his tongue between my lips. His body, strong and muscular beneath me, sculpted with the kinds of curves and edges and lines I’d only imagined. His bare cock, thick and long and hard, hitting me so deep it stole my breath.

As I slid down onto it, slowly and carefully, my hands braced on his chest, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He watched me with a combination of lust and reverence in his blue eyes, his hands tight on my hips, his breathing ragged and heavy. Beneath my palms, his heart beat hard and fast—for me.



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