Misfits Like Us (Like Us #11) Read Online Krista Ritchie, Becca Ritchie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
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“Because of me?” Because we can’t be together.

“I dunno.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Maybe you’re a part of it,” he whispers. “Not all of it.” I see the concerned pinch of his eyes. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t,” I breathe. “You seemed peaceful.”

His muscles unwind more.

I catch his eyes again. “It didn’t look like a nightmare.”

“It wasn’t,” he murmurs. Last time we were alone together, we were kissing and then falling through a ceiling, and now we’re in my bed together.

How can something feel so comfortable yet also so strained?

It’s the unknowing of what we really are.

And of what we will become together.

With clear reluctance, Donnelly glances at the clock. “I know we should talk more about tonight, but it’s getting late.”

It’s Thursday, which means Donnelly has work this morning, protecting my brother at high school. Yet, the way he says getting late, it sounds like he just doesn’t want to cause me any fatigue.

I nod, understanding. I don’t want to keep him up either.

Donnelly looks me over. “Can I sleep in the same bed as you? Only if you want me to.”

I do. I really do. I nod vigorously, and I’m already sliding under my soft comforter and the sheets to be with him.

Heat is brewing underneath the covers, so I pull off my hoodie. Left in a tank top, no bra, and I’m on my side, facing the room while he’s facing my back. I shimmy closer to him.

Donnelly splays his tattooed arm over my hips. He holds me against himself, and I curve my body to meld with his chest and strong legs, like we’re in an intimate sci-fi pod together. Rehabilitating from long space travel. This is basically one of my many fantasies come to life. My cheeks heat, and I hold myself back from turning to face him. If we kiss again, I feel like we’ll have a cosmic eruption. Like we won’t be able to stop with just a kiss, and this night feels too tender to literally fuck with.

His breath is warm on my neck, and I pulse with a drawn-out desire that I try to squash. My mind stirs, unable to settle down. Donnelly is holding me. Cuddling me. Spooning me.

“You okay?” His voice sounds more gravely in the dark.

“Uh-huh.”

“I can feel your heart racing.”

Ohhhh. I bite the inside of my lip. “It’s um…you know…I’ve imagined this a couple times.” I just come out with the fantasy. “We’re two explorers in the same space pod together.”

Waiting for his reply heats my cheeks.

Then he whispers, “I like your pod.”

My smile hurts my face, but he can’t see it.

Hands on my hips, he pulls me closer to him, and I can’t help but grind back into him a few times. I feel his hardness against me.

And then we just lie here. His hand might shift along my arm, but not to feel me up or to fuck me. There’s a calmness with an undercurrent of anticipation. Like burning a sparkler for a minute only for it to die, and with another stroke of the arm or caress, he lights it again. It’s a different kind of vulnerable and close.

Is this the kind of thing a girlfriend would do?

I might like it.

But I’m still kinda scared I’m not any good at sustaining it.

I’d also love the addition of being fucked by him. Maybe not tonight, but another night, I’d be more than ready.

On the precipice of sleep, Donnelly whispers, “I have to fix this thing with my family. Tomorrow. It might screw some shit up, but I’m gonna try to keep us intact.”

I didn’t realize until this moment how much I’d gotten my hopes up tonight. Fear that everything might dissolve into nothing hits me again. For so long I’ve been resigned to the fact that fiction is often better than reality, but every minute I’m with Donnelly, my reality is brighter than any story.

Or maybe the story of my life is just becoming the best written one.

“I know I shouldn’t,” I say, “but I’m going to believe that good things can happen to us.” It’s an unfamiliar concept to me, but I decide to believe in happiness for real, for us.

“Best thing to sleep to,” he says with a lightness and a smile that I can picture. Even if I’m not turned towards his face.

I want to say that he is the best thing to sleep to. Because his arms are magic, and in them, slumber finally takes us away.

DONNELLY’S DAILY PLANNER

THURSDAY, NOV 1ST

Today’s Focus: don’t surrender, but don’t be that guarded. Gotta loosen up & toughen up. And try not to wake Luna while you’re writing this or when you leave. (Think you can manage that ok. She’s a heavy sleeper sleepin’ next to me, that cute one.)

To Do:



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