Pucks and Books (Knoxville Bears #1) Read Online Toni Aleo

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Knoxville Bears Series by Toni Aleo
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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I point to the chair, giggling. “Sitting down.”

The possessiveness in his eyes has heat gathering between my legs. I mean, who am I kidding? Ciaran looks at me, and I’m ready for some action.

I’m his deranged whore.

Lord, slow your roll, Lou! I get my world knocked off its axis from the pleasure he gives me, and I’m calling him mine.

I’m pathetic.

Ciaran shakes his head, pulling the chair closer so I don’t have to leave the space between his knees. He picks up my legs, draping them over his before reaching for the bottle of wine I had placed on the table, along with two cups of water. “Wine?”

I smile happily, popping a piece of tomato into my mouth. “Please.”

He gives me a lusty look, and I laugh. “You and that word,” he mutters, pouring me a glass. I don’t miss the grin pulling at his lips or the way he keeps looking over at me as he pours the wine. He pours himself a glass and then hands me mine. I hold it up to his, and he meets my glass, his eyes intent on mine.

“To pomegranate-orange muffins,” I tease, and that has him grinning even bigger.

“And to kisses beneath a desk.”

I smirk back at that as our glasses clink. I take a sip when he does and then watch as he takes a bite of his pizza. He does that nodding thing he does when he enjoys the taste of something. I’m knocked back to earlier, under the desk and his hot kisses, but then pride fills me deeply as he meets my gaze.

“This is the best damn pizza I’ve ever eaten.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

He shakes his head. “I love it.”

The way he says those three words makes me wish he was speaking of me and not the food. I know that’s insane, and I also know that I’m currently being a hypocrite. I loathe instalove stories; they drive me insane. Unless they’re fated mates…then I’m down, but I can’t help this feeling I’ve got. Like he’s it. Which, again, is ridiculous! I don’t even know him.

“Are you from Knoxville?”

He looks up at my question and then swirls his tongue to capture a string of cheese from the pizza. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m suddenly not even hungry for food. “No, I’m actually from Michigan, grew up in East Lansing.”

I nod as I chew my bite.

“Are you from here?”

“Nope. I’m from all over. My family moved a lot. But I have lived in Knoxville for almost five years now.”

“What brought you here?”

Well, that’s a loaded question that I have no intention of answering. My past is embarrassing, and while I know it wasn’t my fault—but instead my mother’s—I still feel like people will pity me or judge me for what I went through. For how long I stayed. When really, I had no choice. I had to protect Clara and Elliot. I had to hoodwink everyone on the inside so that my sisters could be safe. I swallow hard, and I don’t lie. “I came to live with my peepaw and sisters.”

“Are you close to him?”

“Yeah, he’s more a parent than my real parents are.”

“So, your parents are not in the picture?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine.

I feel so exposed, but I don’t want to lie or deflect. I appreciate that he wants to know me.

“They’re not. My father passed away, and I haven’t spoken to my mom in years.” I can see the apology in his eyes before his lips even form the words. “Don’t apologize. He was an evil person. As is my mother, which is why I came to live with my peepaw.” I see it in his eyes; he wants to know if they put the scars on my back. Despite the guilt I still feel for doing what I didn’t want to do, I distract him with my own question. “Are you close to your parents?”

He shakes his head. “Not my dad. He knocked up my mom up and left, but I am very close to my mom and grandma.”

I’m confused. “Is he your siblings’ dad?”

He laughs. “No. My bad. I guess I could have led with that.” He places his pizza down, taking a long sip of his wine. “My mom was married at a real young age, like seventeen or something, and had all eight of my brothers and sisters pretty fast. There are two sets of twins, so they added up quickly.”

“Goodness!”

“Exactly,” he agrees with a smile. “But their dad was older and died before the eldest graduated high school. Then my mom met my dad, and here I am. Her pleasant surprise.”

I grin. “So, she raised you by herself?”

“With my grandma’s help—and all those siblings. I’m not really close to any of my brothers or sisters. They’re all so much older than me, and I think they feel I’m not really a part of the family.”



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