Smokeshow Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
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His teeth were clenched tightly, causing his chiseled jaw to stand out even more. He turned me toward him completely and pressed my body against his as one of his hands threaded with mine. I had never danced like this before. Never this close to someone else. The arms holding me felt like iron bars, but I didn’t intend to try and break free of them. My mind was turning so quickly that I had little time to adjust to the change when we began to move.

I lifted my eyes from his chest to meet Blaise’s eyes. They were hard and cold. As if touching me and dancing with me were being forced upon him at gunpoint. I stiffened, and his gaze dropped to mine. The darkness in his eyes made me feel breathless. As if I knew I should be terrified, but instead, I was intrigued.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

We both knew he didn’t want to be dancing with me, and it couldn’t be for his father’s sake. He didn’t care what Garrett thought of him.

“Dancing, Madeline,” he replied through his clenched teeth.

“I can see that, Blaise,” I replied with a forced smile. “I meant, what are you doing, dancing with me?”

His hand flexed as it rested on my back, but he said nothing more.

I decided to finish the dance. Get it over with. Whatever point he was making would be made. We continued on in silence. The only thing changing between us was my traitorous body enjoying the feeling of his. I told myself any man who was built like him would feel the same way and that my body didn’t take into account personalities.

I tried to focus on anything else in the room to distract me when my eyes found Trev’s. He was watching us closely, and I could tell he seemed worried about me. I managed to give him a reassuring smile. The song would end soon. I would survive this.

“The dress fits you perfectly,” Blaise said in a low voice, startling me. I hadn’t expected him to speak again.

My eyes flew back up to meet his. He wasn’t looking at me, but his jaw moved, and I knew he was aware of my gaze on his face.

“Melanie buys my clothes,” I told him, feeling as if I should say something.

It appeared as if a smirk wanted to tug at his lips, but he managed to stop it. Either that or I had imagined it. Blaise inhaled deeply. I was in tune with every move he made. Even his breathing. I didn’t want to be. This meant nothing to him. He was being forced to dance with me. That was all I could think of that made sense.

“Where did you learn to dance?” he asked me.

This time, when I looked up at him, our eyes met. He was watching me. The green was darker in this lighting. Almost like a storm cloud over the sea. He was waiting on me to answer him. Nothing more. But my heart sped up, and when I opened my mouth to speak, I forgot my words.

What had he asked me?

“Who taught you to dance?” he asked me again.

“School,” I said before I forgot the question. Maybe it was the champagne. It was affecting me. That was all this was.

He said nothing else, and the song finally ended. Blaise didn’t let me go. Instead, his left hand slid from my back to my hip, where he firmly held me. I watched his throat muscles move as he swallowed hard before his gaze swung toward the table, where I knew Saxon and Trev were waiting on me to escape.

Another song started, and more couples walked onto the dance floor. Blaise’s hand continued to hold on to my hip. Just below my waistline. It felt possessive. Something I shouldn’t want at all, yet I was unable to move away from him.

Did those at our table notice this? Our standing here, his hand on me, as if I belonged to him?

I turned toward them, nervous of the reactions I would see. Although I was doing nothing wrong, it felt as if I were walking a thin line between sanity and danger.

Trev’s eyes met mine, and he gave me a nod. I was sure that meant our exit was almost here. Trev stood up, and I glanced over at Saxon to see what his move was going to be.

He nodded his head toward the door, then mouthed the words, I’ll get you.

There was no time for me to make a decision on what to do next. Blaise made it for me. He eased his grip on my hip, and I started to step back when the heat from his palm pressed firmly against my back once again.

“Come.” The singular word was said as he began moving us off the dance floor. He guided me through the other couples dancing, but not toward our table.


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