Mine to Honor (Southern Wedding #7) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Southern Wedding Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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I walk out of the smoky dark cloud into the crisp night, handing the valet guy my stub. Pulling out my phone, I see she hasn’t texted me. Nothing. It’s been radio silence all fucking day, and I hate it.

My mood doesn’t get better as I make my way home. In fact, I get more annoyed when I pull in and park beside her. The minute I walk in, it’s almost as if my body does a sigh of relief. I kick off my shoes and make my way up the stairs, trying not to make any noise. I think about going and checking on Cici, but instead I walk into the bedroom.

I’m slipping off my jacket when I hear the rustle of the covers. I stop midmovement, and when I hear her speak, the tightness in my stomach is there for a whole different reason. “I didn’t think you would come home.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Eva

I hear the front door open and, no word of a lie, I stop breathing. My heart speeds up at the same time my stomach rises to my throat. I get up on my elbow, looking at the darkened doorway. Looking over to the bedside table, I see Cici is sleeping on her back, with her arms stretched out with not a care in the world. I tap my phone and see that it’s after 1:00 a.m., my stomach clenches again when I hear him kick off his shoes.

I quickly lie back down on my side of the bed, my eyes closed, even though it’s dark and he won’t see if I’m up or not. I’m so pissed that I’ve been waiting up for him, even though I tried to tell myself I wasn’t waiting up for him. I just couldn’t sleep. I’ve been in bed since 10:00 p.m., tossing and turning. Looking over at his side of the bed that was empty, I wondered what he was doing at that moment. That obviously didn’t help me because all I could picture was him with ten women all bouncing up and down on him as he motorboated them. Which made me even more pissed. The whole day I was on a rampage from when he left me in the parking lot of the daycare. I knew it was going to be a day. It didn’t help I was pissed at him and expected him to reach out and apologize for whatever the hell happened in the parking lot before we dropped off Cici, but nothing. As the hours ticked by, so did my mood. Everyone was afraid to ask me anything, so no one did. When I picked up Cici, my mood lessened but then I fucking missed him and our routine, which was so dumb of me considering that it’s all temporary. I position my head down to watch him walk into the bedroom.

In the darkness I watch him walk over to the corner, and I finally sit up at the same time as I see him shrug off his jacket. So many questions are going on in my head. Did he come here after you know what? Did he at least shower? Is he going to see her again? All of these questions, yet the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “I didn’t think you would come home.”

His movement stops as he takes off his jacket. His head whips my way, even in the darkness I can see his glare. “Yeah, why is that?” He continues to take his jacket off, tossing it on the chair in the corner. The chair that not too long ago had only my clothes on it, but now it’s a mix of both of our things.

His tone should make me just ignore his ass and go back to bed or pretend I don’t care. But I’m out here in the middle of the ocean, in the dark, and I can hear the rumbling of the wave coming toward me, ready to pull me under. “I just figured you would be at a strip club.” I don’t say anything after that but neither does he. Does he really need me to spell it out for him? Now I’m even more pissed. “And I don’t know, hook up with someone?”

The room that was filled with tension from us both now feels like it’s frigid. It feels like ice has entered the room. I don’t have to have the lights on to see his glare has turned into more of a death stare. His hands go to the hem of his shirt as he pulls it out from his pants, not even going to the closet to get undressed or even the bathroom. Instead, he stands there fuming as he unbuttons his shirt, or at this point I feel like he rips it open like the Hulk. He takes off his white dress shirt and tosses it on the chair before his hand goes to his belt. I suddenly feel like I should turn on the light to make sure he doesn’t, I don’t know, hurt himself.



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