Only One Night (Only One #3) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Only One Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
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It happens so fast I don’t even know it’s happening. He stands straight, and I feel his cock on my stomach. He grabs my glass and puts it down in a plant beside us. He grabs my hand and pulls me as he makes his way back to the bathroom, and my head is going all over the place. Is he going to fuck me in the bathroom? I know I’m going all YOLO for this guy, but banging in a men’s bathroom stall is not something that I would do. My head spins with the idea of where he is taking me when I see him opening a door and pulling me inside. I only get a little bit of a glimpse in the dim lighting before he presses me against the door. “One chance, Evelyn,” he says, his teeth clenched. “One fucking chance to say no.”

His hands are against the door by my head. I finally put my hands on his chest and pull him to me. “Stop talking, Manning,” I tell him, and he growls before his lips smash onto mine. His mouth opens on mine, and I can taste the scotch on his tongue. My eyes are closed now as I breathe him in, as his tongue ravishes my mouth. His hands come down, and he buries them in my hair. I arch my back, wanting to get closer to him.

He lets go of my lips and kisses down my cheek, bending his legs to kiss my neck. My hands go to the door, and his hands come out of my hair. I hope they cup my tits because my body is ready for him. He groans when my hand comes down and goes around his neck. “Manning,” I whisper. He lifts his head back, and his mouth is attacking mine now. His hands go to my ass, lifting me off the floor, and I wish the dress had more stretch. He bends his head again, sucking on my neck this time. “Manning,” I say, and I want him to lift my skirt so I can wrap my legs around his hips.

His mouth comes up now, and we look at each other, our chests heaving. “Come with me?” he asks, and I just look at him. Bending my head now, I nip his bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. His tongue comes out, and I suck it into my mouth. We are both frantic to touch each other; his hands move off my ass and to my hips and back again. “Come with me?”

My hand goes to his face as my thumb wipes his bottom lip, and he sucks it into his mouth. “Yes,” I whisper. “I’ll come with you.” I have no idea where he is taking me. I have no idea about any of this. The only thing I know is I would give anything for only one night with him.

Chapter 7

Manning

“Come with me?” I ask her, my heart thumping so hard in my chest. My chest is heaving as if I just ran a marathon. I dragged her into a supply closet, for fuck’s sake. I snap, and I probably have lost my fucking mind.

Anyone could have seen us. Anyone could have taken a picture, and then what? But even knowing all this, the only thing I could think of was tasting her, kissing her. If I got anything from tonight, it was to have her in my arms.

“Yes,” she whispers, my hands still on her ass. “I’ll come with you.” She tilts her head to the side, and I kiss her again, the earth feeling like it’s shaking under my feet. I move one of my hands from her ass, all the way up to her back, and then grip her neck in my hand, bringing her closer to me. I’ve never had this happen, never had the need to just take what I wanted. Never had the temptation like I did this time. But the best, the motherfucking best, was she had no idea who I was. She wasn’t doing this because I was Manning Stevenson, the captain of the Dallas Oilers. She was doing this because she wants me.

Her tongue slides with mine and turns around and around. I can taste the cranberry juice on her lips, and I suddenly want to lay her out and devour her whole body. I let go of her lips when I hear voices coming closer to the door. Both of us look at each other while we try to steady our breathing.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“I have a room here,” I say. “My . . .” I was about to tell her my agent got it for me. “My assistant made the plans.” She looks at me now, and her lips are plump from my attack of them. “Not that I do this.” I want her to know that I didn’t get the room just to take someone to it. “Just in case I had a couple too many drinks.”


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