When He Reads to Me Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
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“I’m tired.” Milo finally speaks.

We’ve all finished our meals, and I’m on my second margarita.

“I could use a good sleep,” Letti agrees, leaning her head on Mason’s shoulder.

Milo pays the bill without even asking, and we all get up to leave. On the walk back, he stays next to me but says nothing, and Mason and Letti are behind us, hand in hand.

When we arrive at the apartment, Letti kisses me goodnight before she heads to the guest room with Mason. I walk to my room, and Milo follows. He kicks off his shoes next to the bed as I grab my pajamas and head for the shower. I let him be the whole time, wondering why he hasn’t touched me or spoken more than a few words to me.

Does he not want to be here?

Is he with someone else?

Maybe I should have asked that question before inviting him into my bedroom.

All these thoughts run rampant through my head.

As soon as I’m clean, I wrap a towel around myself and pull open the door to find him climbing into my bed, wearing only a pair of boxers. His eyes find mine, and he pauses.

“Are you with someone?” I blurt out. One brow raises, and he looks at me as if I’ve gone mad. Maybe I have. “You aren’t, right? I mean, I doubt you’d be sleeping in my bed if you were.” He shakes his head, and I take that as his answer before I shut the bathroom door, finish getting dressed, and comb my hair. Turning the light off, I step out and climb into bed. I listen as I lie down and hear a soft snore.

He fell asleep.

Without saying one word.

Chapter 37

Lissie

“Can I smother him in his sleep?”

Tossing and turning, I lie there for what feels like hours. I’m mad at him. How could he come out here to see me and not want to talk to me? Did I do something that I’m unaware of? I mean, I don’t think I did, but who knows?

I feel the heat from his body as he lies dead-still on his back next to me. My hands are itching to reach out and touch him, but I’m not sure I want to touch someone who clearly doesn’t want to be around me.

So why did he agree to share a bed with me?

He could have gone to the couch.

Maybe I should have only given him the option of the couch.

It would have been easier than dealing with the torture of him lying next to me.

“Your thoughts are so damn loud,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, well, you’re annoying,” I snap before I turn over to my side and give him my back.

“Pretty Lady.” I ignore him. “We can’t do anything until we talk. I have something to tell you. But I don’t want to tell you yet because it will ruin this vacation. For everyone.”

I huff. “So you decided it was smart that we share a bed?”

“As I recall, that was your idea. And, of course, I’m going to pick sleeping next to you rather than on a couch.”

So he’s here to visit me to tell me something, but he refuses to do so until the end because he doesn’t want to ruin our weekend? That seems a bit selfish. I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t think that we would sleep together in more ways than one.

I have missed his touch.

I have dreamed of it.

And I was greatly looking forward to having it again.

I hate that he’s ruined me for all other men without even knowing he did so.

When I agreed to go back to his house that first night, I didn’t think this would be the outcome—that a few nights with him would have me hooked. I wasn’t aware that you could crave a single touch as much as I crave his.

It should be illegal.

Tossing and turning, I’m only getting madder with each passing second. I hear him breathing next to me, and before I explode, I turn to face him. He turns his head to the side and looks me dead in the eye. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I’ve known that since the moment I first saw you,” he finally says.

And that’s all it takes.

Before I can stop myself, my hand is on his face, feeling the slight stubble before my lips move forward and come crashing down on his. He doesn’t pull away, and he doesn’t waste any time kissing me back. Our lips move hungrily. He’s holding back, but when I want something, I’ll take it.

Still cupping his cheek, I crawl on top of him until both my hands are on his face and I’m straddling him. I settle myself over him and feel all of him beneath me. It’s evident he wants me as much as I want him.



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