The Good Girl (Nashville Neighborhood #5) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Nashville Neighborhood Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
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Shit.

Was Preston remembering how we were going behind my brother’s back? I needed to keep him from thinking about it.

“You want to watch a movie?” I asked quickly. “I’ve got Netflix on my laptop.”

“No.” His tone was cryptic as he resumed moving. He rounded the end of the bed, and sat on the pale gray bedspread, facing the mirror so I could see his expression. Like his tone, it was unreadable. “Come here.”

The intense stare he gave me was no less powerful when it was reflected through the mirror. It made the air in the room go thin, and my blood heat. I swallowed thickly and put one foot in front of the other, bringing myself to stand in front of him.

It wasn’t hard to read his expression now.

Desire teemed in his eyes, and he stretched out a hand, grazing it over my legs as he played with the ruffle at the hem of my skirt.

“I meant to tell you,” smoke filled his voice, “how hot you look in this dress.” His hand slipped under the edge of the fabric, and the backs of his fingers ghosted across the bare skin of my thighs. “You knew what you were doing when you put it on, didn’t you? You wanted to look like a cocktease.”

My lips fell open, but only so I could draw in a sharp breath. I had worn the sundress because I thought it was cute and I’d hoped he’d like it, but this reaction . . .

God, it was so much better.

“I can practically see your tits through it.” He wasn’t scolding me—he was thrilled I’d opted not to wear a bra. He was damn near drooling as he stared up at me. “It makes me want to touch them.”

The softest sigh escaped my lips, but he heard it loud and clear. His fingers slipped between my knees and glided up the inside of my thigh at a painfully slow pace. I got the impression his teasing touch was payback for how my dress had teased him.

It was instinctive the way my gaze flicked to the open bedroom door, checking to see if anyone was there. It was unnecessary because I’d hear anyone coming up the stairs, but—

Better safe than sorry.

His palm inched up, nearly to my underwear, only to stroke back down disappointingly toward my knee. It made me shudder with anticipation and longing, and perhaps the tiniest bit of frustration. I was impatient, ready to do more, and although he’d barely touched me, I was already on fucking fire.

Up he stroked a second time, his fingers tracing a line across my sensitized skin. In response, my knees wobbled. It made it so hard to stand.

His smile only reached his eyes. “You want to sit down?”

I’d expected him to pull me down into his lap so I was straddling him like we’d done in his back seat, but instead he shifted back on the bed and widened his legs, making room for me.

“Turn around,” he said. “Put your back to me.”

I hated being controlled, and yet I liked it a lot when he told me what to do. It just felt easier. Natural. Right. Plus, I wasn’t as worried about doing something dumb or awkward.

I turned and sat in the space he’d created, and when my gaze went forward, I found his in the mirror. My heart stopped at the sight of us. I understood why he was apprehensive about us dating, but couldn’t he see how good we looked together?

My eyelids went heavy as he leaned in and set his damp, warm mouth on my shoulder, just beside the thin strap that was looped into a bow there. While his gentle kisses marched across my skin, his hands grasped my waist.

“How bad,” he said in a hush, “does the good girl want to be tonight?”

There was no other answer. The word pounded in my brain.

“Bad,” I breathed.

ELEVEN

Sydney

Preston made a sound of satisfaction, and it caused a sharp ache deep between my legs. I softened back into him on the side of the bed, wanting to become dough that he could twist and pull and shape into whatever form he desired.

The tip of his nose traced a line up my neck. It was sensual, and I was wholly unprepared for how seductive he could be. I stared at us in the mirror, curling an arm back behind his head while his hands drifted lower toward my lap.

“You still want my fingers inside you?”

His question doused me in lava, and I gasped. “Yes.”

He peered at my reflection, and the carnal look that lurked in his eyes . . . shit, it was so hot. He looked at me like I was an expertly prepared dish he was ready to devour.

“You’ll have to be quiet,” he reminded.

I nodded quickly in understanding, and my gaze locked on to the mirror, focusing on the way his hands rested on my thighs. His fingers were splayed out, and he began to curl them in, making the skirt of my dress creep up.



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