Small Town Swoon (Cherry Tree Harbor #4) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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“Maybe.”

“Doing what?”

“Thinking things through,” I said, stepping into her house and shutting the door behind me.

“What things?”

I started moving toward her, forcing her to walk backward into the living room. “Delphine never said I had to be alone when I stripped down to my purest self. She just said I had to get more comfortable being vulnerable.”

“Interesting.”

I unzipped my hoodie and worked it off, dropping it on the floor. “And is there a more vulnerable act than sex?”

Her back hit the opposite wall, and she flattened herself against it. “I can’t think of one.”

“Me neither.” I braced my hands above each of her shoulders. “I mean, you’re literally laying yourself bare in front of someone.”

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

“Asking them to fulfill your deepest desires.”

She licked her lips. “Yes.”

“Telling them exactly what you want to do to them. Or what you want them to do to you.” Bending my arms at the elbow, I pressed closer to her, letting my lips brush hers as I spoke. “Maybe even begging for it.”

She bunched a hand in the front of my shirt. “Yes.”

“It’s still a risk, of course.” I put a hand on the curve of her waist, moved it up her ribcage until it covered one lush, round breast. My cock surged, bulging against my fly. “Such an extreme act of vulnerability might cause damage to a friendship.”

“I—I don’t think it has to,” she stammered as I moved my mouth down her throat, teasing her pert nipple with my thumb through the thin, stretchy material.

“I don’t either.” I slipped my hand beneath her shirt and unhooked her bra with an easy flick of my fingers. “Especially if it only happens once.”

“I agree.” Her hands moved to the button on my jeans. “It might even make our friendship better.”

“We can finally put the past to rest.” I slid both hands up her shirt, beneath her bra, filling my palms with her perfect tits.

“The past is very tired,” she murmured, dragging down my zipper. “Let’s send it to bed.”

I picked my head up and looked down at her. “You’re sure?”

She slipped a hand inside my pants and curled her fingers around my cock. “Yes.”

Our mouths came together, greedy and demanding. Head slanted, lips open wide, I stroked her tongue with mine, reveling in the sweetness of her taste, the sound of the soft little moans coming from the back of her throat, the points of her nipples beneath the pads of my thumbs. My cock thickened inside her grasp as she worked her fist up and down.

Desperate to get my mouth on her skin, I yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. She dropped the bra from her arms and I whipped off my shirt before slipping my hands beneath her ass and lifting her up. With her back against the wall, she wrapped her legs around my waist and cradled my head in her hands as I feasted on one breast and then the other. Threading her fingers into my hair, she panted as I licked and sucked, swirling my tongue around each stiff peak before drawing it into my mouth. Her thighs tightened around me.

“Dash,” she whispered, her hands closing into fists, making my scalp tingle. “My bedroom. Now.”

No argument here—this time I wasn’t stopping. I carried her into her room and tipped her backward onto the bed, those dark curls spilling onto the white sheets.

“I forgot to make my bed,” she said sheepishly.

“Don’t care.” I yanked off her shoes. Peeled off her jeans and her socks. When she wore only a tiny pair of black panties, I stopped with one knee on the bed and stared at her. Her skin appeared golden and luminous in the soft glow of her bedside lamp. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“I’m not.” She put her hands on her head. “I’ve been working all night. I look awful.”

“You’re even more beautiful than you were at sixteen. And much sexier.” I ran a hand up the inside of one leg from her calf to the apex of her thighs. Caressed her through the warm, damp lace, sliding the length of my index finger along the seam of her pussy. “Did you really do all the things I asked you to last night?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

“Show you?”

“Yes. With your hand. Your fingers.”

She took an adorably deep breath, like she was working up her courage. Her hand slid down her stomach but hovered just below her belly button. “I don’t think I can do it with you watching.”

“Not even if you know how hot it makes me?” I took her by the wrist and moved her hand lower, slipping her fingers beneath the edge of the lace. “Let me watch you.” When she began to move her fingers in a circular motion, I groaned with appreciation, my hand instinctively reaching into my pants to fist my cock. “That’s it. You’re so fucking hot.”



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