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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I gasped and my gaze darted to him, but his expression was plain. He didn’t even bother to take his eyes off the road. “What?” he challenged. “I felt like touching you. It’s not a big deal.”

I smashed my lips together to hold back my incredulous grin. This gesture was so intimate and affectionate, it threatened to make me lightheaded.

“You’re right,” I said breathlessly. “It’s not.”

So, I set my hand on top of his, daring him to pull away. But he didn’t.

We rode the rest of the way like that, his hand on me and mine casing his.

A tinge of sadness washed over me when we reached his house, because it meant this strange and wonderful handholding was coming to an end, but I reminded myself that a hell of a lot more was on the menu for tonight.

The three-car garage at his house was empty until he pulled his car in.

“Nobody’s home?” I asked.

“Nope. My dad’s working, and Cassidy’s out with friends.” He shut off the car, and his attention dropped to the hands on my leg. “It’s just us tonight.”

Dear lord. All the moisture in my body began to migrate south, making my mouth dry. “Oh.”

“Come on.” A seductive smile stretched across his lips as he undid his seatbelt. “I’ve got something for you. It’s in my bedroom.”

I filled my voice with suspicion. “Is it your penis?”

My question surprised him so much, it punched a laugh from his chest. “No, but it can be, if you want.”

“What is it?”

“Guess you’ll have to come see.”

His eyes glimmered with sex and mischief before he pulled his hand out from beneath mine and reached for his car door.

I was sort of glad he’d said something because I was more focused on my curiosity, rather than my nerves as we came into the house and descended the steps into the basement. He moved fast, maybe in an attempt to keep me from stopping and looking at the pictures lining the staircase on either side.

There weren’t any embarrassing ones, nor were any of them from before he was in high school, but that sort of made sense. He hadn’t moved in with his dad until he was sixteen. But had he not been a part of his father’s life before then?

I was curious, but that seemed too invasive of a question to ask, so I focused elsewhere. There were graduation pictures, both high school and college, plus a few family trips. One even included Cassidy in the mix, and I couldn’t help but wonder how that worked.

Bad enough to have your ex dating your father, but to be a third wheel to them? Yikes.

It’d been a year since I’d been in the Lowes’ basement, but it hadn’t changed much. The only difference was the table where we’d played beer pong was now empty and surrounded by chairs.

“You want something to drink?” He went to the fridge and pulled it open, but it wasn’t to show me the selection. It was so he could pull out a can of Coke for himself.

“Sure. I’ll have one of those.” I nodded to the can he was holding.

“You want something to go in it?” He motioned to the bottles of hard liquor on the inside of the fridge door. “Like rum?”

“I’m not twenty-one,” I said automatically.

The second it was out, I wished I could take it back.

A lazy grin dawned on his face. “Right. I forgot for a second that you’re a good girl.”

I didn’t miss the challenge he’d lobbed at me. I shifted my stance, striving to look confident. “You know what? Rum would be great.”

He laughed as he pulled a bottle with a white label from the shelf. Plastic cups were retrieved from the upper cabinet and then filled with ice, followed by the tiniest pour known to man of rum into each one.

“Let’s not go crazy,” I teased. “Those drinks are almost as much of a virgin as I am.”

He chuckled, popped the top on the can, and distributed the soda between the cups. “Yeah, they’re weak, but you can have as much as you want . . . after the lesson.”

I knew what he was doing. He didn’t want either of us hammered, or even tipsy, judging by the miniscule amount of alcohol he’d doled out. Was he worried he might take advantage of me? It wasn’t possible. I wanted him even when I was stone-cold sober.

He put away the rum, picked up the cups, and then offered one to me. “Cheers.”

I took the drink, and although my heart beat faster, my voice sounded steady. “To lesson number three.”

His eyes glinted, announcing he approved of my toast. Our plastic cups were tapped together, and we each took a sip, and when it was done, I turned my focus toward the dark doorway that I suspected was the entrance to his bedroom.



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