Thanksgiving with Three Brothers Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
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The man standing there could stop traffic looking like that. Not only was Noah unfairly handsome in a world of ordinary-looking people, but he was wearing a tux that fit him like a tailor practically went blind getting every line exact and every hem perfect.

“Damn, Noah,” I said, grinning, “you look fantastic.”

His gaze raked me from my feet up to my face and swept back again for good measure. I could see admiration on his face along with a kind of animal reaction of want flickering in his eyes.

“You beat me to it,” he said, “I was too speechless seeing you in that dress. Let me tell you now. You’re exquisite, beautiful from head to toe. I knew you were beautiful, and that green would suit you, but you are something out of a dream.”

“Depending on whose dreams we’re talking about, we better leave now.”

“What does that mean?” he lifted a brow at me, cocky. “You been dreaming of me?”

“Maybe,” I answered, coy and giggly, feeling effervescent with his compliments.

I grabbed my phone and clutch and we drove off to the ball. It wasn’t at a hotel as I’d expected but at a grand private home outside the city. The kind of place with majestic columns and outdoor lighting to illuminate their landscaping perfectly. It felt just like a movie. Noah tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and led me inside. He presented our invitation, and we were announced at the head of a curving staircase. My heart pounded and I glanced at him, a little shy. Noah tipped his chin up and gave me a small smile. I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin as he’d indicated and held on to his arm as we made our way down the long staircase. I was thankful for the way the train slid behind me without tripping me up, the strength of his arm beneath my hand and the certainty I felt that he wanted me and only me by his side tonight.

A couple of older men, well-dressed, with wives in heavily beaded gowns greeted us and Noah introduced me. “This is Madison Stewart, owner of the downtown treasure box Maple Street shop and my girlfriend,” he said. I blushed a little under the introduction.

They shook my hand and spoke highly of Noah, his business acumen and impressive achievements for such a young man. After we spoke with them for a few minutes, the music in the gleaming ballroom changed to an instrumental I recognized. I whispered to Noah, “Let’s dance. This was on Bridgerton, and it was so romantic.”

“Ah, a Bridgerton girl,” he said slyly, “should I walk you out to the gardens and try to compromise you?” I grinned at him.

He led me onto the dance floor where two or three dozen couples already danced to the orchestral arrangement of a Taylor Swift song. I rested one hand on his shoulder, and he held the other hand, leading me in a waltz I didn’t quite know how to do. Noah was a strong partner, commanding and with an irresistible lead. I felt swept into the music and didn’t have to think about the steps or bumping into anyone. It was a bright, swirling interlude of feeling like we were the only people in the world, just swirling in his strong arms and being absorbed by the music. I let my eyes drift shut and thought what a perfect moment this was. When the song ended, he took my hand and kissed it, “I never want to dance with anyone else,” he said. I nodded, starry eyed over him and this magical evening.

We sipped champagne, bid on items in a silent auction for the charity, and danced again and again. I didn’t want the evening to end, but finally my shoes began to pinch.

“Would it scandalize everyone here if I took my shoes off and danced barefoot?” I whispered to him.

“I think that means your coach is about to turn into a pumpkin,” he said lightly, “let’s go.” I nodded in agreement with one last wistful look around the ballroom.

“It really is like something out of a movie,” I confided.

“What you’re saying is the next time I have to go to an event with dancing, you promise to be my plus-one?”

“Yes please,” I said eagerly, and his smile was so gorgeous it took my breath away.

He drove to my building and parked to walk me in.

“Thank you for tonight. I’ll never forget it,” I said. “Would you like to come upstairs?”

“I’d fucking love to come upstairs,” he said making me laugh. I carried my shoes, tiptoed on bruised feet, and he followed me up the steps to my door. Even the way he leaned into whisper in my ear as I unlocked my door felt like it should have a romantic soundtrack swelling in the background.


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