The Perfect Wrong Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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She works to wiggle out of my grasp.

But she doesn’t bolt like before, settling against me, resting her head on my shoulder.

Her breath quickens, pushing those gorgeous tits flush against my hard muscle, kindling primal fire in my veins.

“Maybe I do. I just want to know you, mostly. I don’t need to know who you’ve shot at or why. I just... I want to know what it’s done for your life. The good, the bad, the ugly. Do you even like your job?”

Surprisingly loaded question.

I think seriously before answering.

The little tease has got her thigh dangerously close to my hard-on now.

There’s no way she can’t feel how hard I am every time she moves.

It hurts not to pull her legs apart and sink down inside her.

“I wouldn’t have kept re-enlisting for more if I didn’t like it, princess. Somebody’s gotta protect this country. Home is home, even with its warts and all. I needed the structure, and the Navy gave me that. Working for Enguard helps keep it. In case it wasn’t obvious, I don’t give two shits what my mother thinks, even if she’s right about the danger sometimes. There’s nothing I’d rather do than wake up and drill, ready to mobilize when someone needs the best muscle money can buy.”

“Interesting.” She looks up and her breath falls against my lips.

We’re in deadly territory now.

“That’s really noble,” she says. “I’ve always respected military guys. And, um, I read about your last big mission—the one with that disgusting trafficker. Oh my God, I can’t even imagine...”

“You can’t,” I clip. “And for your sake, you don’t need to because I did my job. He’s done and those girls are home.”

I just wish it was over, all wrapped up with a pretty bow.

My brain flashes back to the cartel hit men, the real reason I’m back here.

“FYI, we’re not all prima donnas looking for constant praise. I don’t need you to fawn over me, thinking I’m this big damn hero who only shits gold. The discounted drinks at the bars on vets’ nights are thanks enough. I don’t do this because I want my ego jacked off.”

She giggles, pushing this bubblegum noise in my ear.

Guess she’s just that sheltered, and my coarseness amuses her.

“Then why?” Her cheeks glow vivid red. “Is there anything else you’d rather do with your life? Like when you get older and it’s harder on your body?”

“If it ever gets to that point, I’ll probably join a greyhound rescue or something.”

She cocks her head. I’ve said too much, clearing my throat.

“You’re a dog lover?”

“I’ve got a soft spot for deer dogs, specifically,” I admit. “Ma dated this guy briefly who took in a lot of retired racing dogs. They’re smart as hell and faster than rabbits, whenever they don’t turn into seventy-pound lumps. Still, I remember thinking how much those dogs deserve a comfortable retirement after people use them like workhorses. If I can help with that, so be it.”

She smiles so wide I think it’s about to slide right off her face. Her eyes twinkle like amber, happy that she’s pulled a big secret out of me, even if it’s some hazy future dream.

I hate that she sees how much I’m afraid I might have in common with those dogs someday.

“For now, that’s not on the radar,” I say. “Playing hardass and getting paid well for it suits me just fine. It’s like anything else—a calling. You don’t walk away from that shit, no matter how many times it tries to kill you.”

I’m getting tired of these questions. I glide my hand up her lower back before sweeping it to the edge of her ass again.

Her eyes flutter shut.

Then they pop open and she reels back.

“Okay—enough! I shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, wheels of doubt spinning behind her eyes.

I don’t answer.

Even if she’s right and we’re playing a dangerous game, the fact that she’s playing at all tells me I’ve got reason to continue.

“My turn, princess. Truth or fucking dare.” I reach for her face and clasp her chin, just firmly enough to tell her I’m not playing around. “How long has it been since your last fuck? Was he any good?”

Her breath stalls.

If she thought she was the only one who gets to ask hard questions tonight, she’s dead wrong.

When Delia moves, she’s shaking her head like mad, slapping my arm.

I don’t let go.

Don’t let up.

Tracing her jawline softly with my thumb, I try to remind her of that dark, forbidden night.

Of all the things I can still do to make her clit sing.

Hell, her whole body, if only she’d stop talking, shed the Miss Innocent act, and let me get her naked and under me.

“Come on. Look who’s asking for classified secrets now,” she says, twisting away from me.

I know I’m on target.

And I think the girl just invented a new shade of embarrassed, blushing like a sunburn. Virgin-red.



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