This Is Love Read online Natasha Madison (This is #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: This Is Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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I look back and see that Vivienne didn’t follow me, so I walk back, and she is standing there reading the wall where I have all the rules and regulations. “There you are,” I tell her, and she looks back at me.

“Some of these rules make me laugh.” She points out the one about dogs in heat. “So if I’m in heat, I can’t come?” She shakes her head. “That defeats the purpose of being in heat.”

I shake my head, and I’m about to kiss her when Tracy comes back into the room. “Okay, so for tomorrow, it starts at one. You should get here maybe by twelve thirty to mingle. There will be little appetizers,” she says, looking from me to Vivienne. “It’s going to last until maybe four or five, depending. The ribbon cutting will be at three. The press will be here, so you can expect pictures.” Her phone rings, making her stop talking, and she answers it right away. “Hello, one second.” She turns back to me. “Dinner tomorrow, do you have any plans?”

“I do,” I tell her. “I’ll be available for the afternoon, but I have plans after that.” She nods at me and then walks away.

“You really don’t have to,” Vivienne says, looking at me. “I can stay at the hotel while you do your thing.”

“I have you all to myself for three days. Do you really think I’m going to give up that time?” I say, and she smiles. “Now, shall we go back and rest?”

“If that is code for let’s go back so you can eat me”—she winks—“then yes please.”

Chapter Nineteen

Vivienne

“We are going to be late.” I hear him from the bedroom while I slip on my metallic pink heels. I look in the mirror and put a hand to my stomach. Suddenly, I’m nervous as hell. It’s his big day, and I want to support him in any way I can. After we left his store, we came back to the room and got lost in each other over and over again. So much that we didn’t leave the room. We ate on the terrace with my legs over his, and then I climbed into his lap, and we had sex while the jazz band played on in the distance.

I apply my nude-colored lipstick and gloss. My eyes are sparling blue today, and I put on my diamond earrings. And then look at my outfit in the full-length mirror. It’s a light jacket and skirt. The skirt hugs my every curve and stops just after my knees. But it’s the jacket that makes the outfit. It goes low in the front and then crosses over tight around the waist and then flares out. “Baby,” he says the nickname he sometimes calls me, and I haven’t told him to stop yet. I keep reminding myself that I should say something, but it hasn’t come up yet. He knocks at the door. “The car is downstairs.”

“Hold your cock, Markos,” I joke, opening the door and seeing him standing there. I stop breathing, but I smile and try not to let him see. He’s standing there in a light gray suit that molds to his whole body with a white button-down shirt underneath and a dark blue tie around his neck. “I’m ready.”

“You aren’t wearing that?” he says, looking at me up and down, and I put on hand on my hip.

“What’s wrong with this outfit? Is it the color?” I ask him, looking down. “I didn’t pack another one.”

“One, it’s too low in the front.” He points at the jacket that goes down a little, but it’s tight fitting so nothing is coming out. “Two, we know you aren’t wearing a bra, so that’s a no.”

“The bra is built in,” I tell him, picking up his hand so he can feel the little pads.

“Three, I want you to change,” he continues, and then I shake my head.

“Well, this is the only outfit I brought,” I tell him, annoyed now. “So either I go like this or I stay here and get a massage. Ball’s in your court,” I say, walking away from him and going to grab my light pink Hermes purse I brought.

I feel him right behind me, his hands now on my hips pushing me into him. “Your ass looks so fuckable,” he whispers in my ear, and I know he means it because his hands are holding my hips the same way he does when he takes my ass.

“Well, if you behave …” I turn in his arms, his hands finding my hips again. “When we come back, I can grant you access to said ass.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, throwing his head back. “How am I supposed to walk around aroused the whole time?”

I shrug my shoulder. “I have no idea, but if it helps, I’m wet just thinking about it.”



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