The Perfect Wrong Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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The hell is inside this room.

Inside Delia.

Inside me.

Standing on the balcony overlooking the Strip isn’t doing shit for taming my lust.

A few long chaise chairs wait by the pool.

Another trigger where I’m forced to see myself pulling her onto my lap, naked and wet and wanting in the steaming velvet night.

When she finally comes out of the bathroom and looks at me, she’s fuming.

Ah, there’s my cue to bite the bullet and deal with this.

I wonder if she’s been coaching herself in the mirror, working up the courage to lay into me, to tell me she’ll rough it on the overstuffed couch in the main room.

“You okay?” I venture, knowing full well she’s anything but.

“I just... I can’t believe Dad didn’t think to lock in two separate rooms.” She stamps her foot as I hand her a key card for the room. “Roommates. Bedmates. It’s like every silly rom-com ever made—”

She catches herself and stops mid-sentence as I dart her a look.

“By silly, I mean the terrible, super cheesy ones.”

Judging by the way her face reddens, I’m not sure what the hell she means.

“Princess, relax. Roughing it out in a two-thousand-dollar-a-night suite is not the apocalypse. I’m not gonna watch you shower or whatever the fuck—unless you want me to.”

She flips me off, wincing.

It’s so unexpected a laugh tears out of me.

“See? There’s the fighting spirit. Now take a nice long look around. You see how big this place is? Hell, that bed alone, you could jump up and down on it like a frigging trampoline and I’d never know on the other side.” I gesture to the sprawling bed that looks like it could hold two people and all the greyhound lumps I’d ever want. “I’ll even turn my back like a good boy when you’re changing. Pinky swear.”

I hold up my hand with the finger stuck out, hiding my other behind my back, fingers crossed.

She shoots me a dirty look and purses her lips.

That fire in my balls leaps through the rest of me.

Damn, I’d give a whole nut just to wipe that bratty look off her face by taking her over my knee.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Maybe that raid on Warzach did more damage than I thought. Forget the assessment from the two shrinks Sexton and Strauss made everybody visit after we got home.

There must be a few wires crossed in my head if I’m this hot to tan this woman’s ass and then plow her till she can’t move for the next week.

“Total nightmare,” she whispers, sinking down on the edge of the bed. “Chris, I can’t even...”

“Cut your old man some slack. This isn’t his fault. The lady at the front desk said they’re overbooked. She offered me the upgrade when we checked in. I’m the guy who gave up the other room.” I stab a thumb at my chest.

“You—you what?” Her eyes pop, all mahogany confusion, and she looks at me like my nose just fell off.

“You heard me. And you know what? I can’t say I regret it. Give it a day or two, and I think you’ll agree.”

That shuts her up. At least long enough for her to hop up and skitter past me to the balcony outside.

I get it. She needs air.

So I give her space, let her soak in her new reality.

Hopefully, she’ll come to her senses soon and realize we’re practically sleeping in the Taj Mahal.

If we manage to get any sleep at all, I mean.

I played up how I won’t notice her in bed. Actually, it could be ten miles long and I know I’ll still have a hell of a time keeping my hands to myself—never mind other badly behaved parts of me.

“Oh my God,” she whispers from the balcony, soaking in the awesome view.

When I walk out and stop behind her, I see her hands clenching the banister, her dark hair gleaming with gold threaded through it by the high Nevada sun.

“...it’s really something, isn’t it?” she muses.

“Yeah, something. Just wait till you see it at night. I think of it as Christmas in the desert, all year round.”

Yeah, something, I think again, glancing at the deck furniture. Something that makes me want to rip your dress off right here and take you in front of this entire unhinged city.

I’m not sure what makes my dick throb harder—her ass or the way she smiles at me with her nervousness fading.

I pace back and forth slowly, taking in the only view that’s better than the busy strip and the landscape beyond.

Her.

Delia damn Burr in all her forbidden fruit ripeness.

The last time my eyes linger on her hips, imagining how sweet they’d feel in my hands, I think she catches me.

I look away sharply, fighting back a smile.

Something makes me lunge forward and grab her then. I spin her around gently, digging my fingers into her hip till she breaks and can’t stop laughing with me.


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