Southern Storm Read online Natasha Madison (Southern #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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“Melody.” I say her name and look at her. She’s wearing a tight red dress that has her breasts practically falling out of it. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“Well, I tried to get to you at the party, but you disappeared, so I figured I’d drop by to congratulate you in person.” She steps in closer, and I take a step back.

“It’s really not a good time,” I say.

“You’ve been saying that for weeks.” She uses her finger to run down my chest. “I thought we had fun.”

I want to tell her the last thing we had was fun. It was one dinner, and I kissed her on the cheek and then spent the night trying to wash the smell of her off me. Besides, she was like an octopus the whole night, and I felt like I was at a kung fu class. “Listen, Melody …” I start to say, but she wraps her arms around my neck, and before I can peel them off me, I see Savannah standing off to the side. My head turns to her, and it makes Melody turn also. “Oh, hey, Savannah,” she says, not taking her arms from around my neck. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah,” she says, avoiding my eye contact and forcing a fake smile on her face. “I was just leaving,” she says, walking toward the door. “I’ll just leave you two be.” She nods, and she is out of the house before I can even do or say anything.

“Well, now that we are alone …” Melody says, and I can swear her hips thrust forward, making my cock duck for cover.

I slowly peel her arms away from my neck, and she looks at me confused. “Listen, Melody, I don’t really have time for a relationship right now. I just became mayor, and I want to focus on that.”

“But …” she says, trying to think of something to say. “It doesn’t have to be anything serious.” She winks at me. “We could be friends.” Her voice goes low. “With benefits.”

“I couldn’t do that,” I say, and she crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her tits up even higher.

“I know about Teressa,” she tells me, and I look at her, pinching my eyebrows together.

“Teressa, the woman who works at the bank?” I ask. She’s the teller who always serves me.

“You don’t have to pretend. I know that you guys have your dates, or shall we say rendezvous on Wednesday, and I—” I hold up my hand now.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but there has never been anything with me and Teressa, nor has there been anything with any woman in this town.” I don’t mention that it’s been a fucking long time since I’ve been with a woman. After I found out about Jacob and Savannah, I went after anyone I could get. I had sex just to have sex, hoping that I would get that connection with someone, but it all amounted to nothing. It always came back to the woman I wanted who I thought slept with my best friend.

“But,” she says, and I shake my head.

“How about we forget that we had this conversation?” I try to make her feel better and less embarrassed about this whole thing. My phone starts ringing in my pocket, and I see that it’s Jacob. “I really have to get this.”

She looks down at the floor. “Of course, I’ll get out of the way.” She turns and walks to the door. “But the offer is on the table.”

She turns and opens the door and walks out, and I let out the breath I was holding. The only thing I can think of doing is getting to Savannah when I answer the call.

Chapter Eight

Savannah

I shouldn’t have walked out of the house like a child having a tantrum, but I just couldn’t stand there and watch it. I’ve seen it enough over the years from afar that I didn’t want to see it in front of my face. Instead, I make my way over to the bar. Pulling up, I spot Tony and his construction van, holding his clipboard in his hand. He looks over when I get out of the truck.

“Hey there.” I put my hand up in a wave, walking over to him.

“Hey, Savannah.” He smiles big. He usually comes into the bar every weekday night at six to grab a beer before going home. Sometimes on Saturday, he comes in with his wife, but it’s a rare thing.

“If you are here for your nightly beer.” I smile at him. “You’re fresh out of luck,” I joke with him.

“I’m not here for that.” He shakes his head. “I got a call from Beau.” It shocks me that Beau would have called him already. “Decided to see if we could help.”



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