Three Kinds of Trouble (Sons of Templar MC #9) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Biker, Crime, Dark, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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I got a glower for following him. Sirius got a rub on the head.

It was unnerving, watching Hades prowl through my home, looking for what, I wasn’t sure. He went into every room. It was an invasion, but it was also something else. I’d never be able to look at a corner of my home again without seeing Hades’s shadow. It was extremely strange, to watch this man in his leather cut—underneath of which was a gun holster, full-on like the ones they wore in moves. I’d peeked as he’d moved through the house—with his imposing presence, muscles and a general air of danger.

My house was unapologetically girly. In a classy, understated way, I personally thought. When I’d first moved here, I put a lot of money into renovations. I’d also paid a good amount of money to make sure the renovations were actually done within my time frame. I’d lucked out, since Kallum ‘knew a guy’ who also ‘knew a bunch of guys’ who did good work and turned up when they said they would.

The house itself had a beautiful exterior. It was long and wide, a circular driveway in front of it complete with a fountain in the middle. There were flowerbeds all along the front of the house, flowerboxes underneath the windows. All had been empty when I bought it but were now thriving. You walked up steps to the double doors which opened to a hallway. To the left were my bedroom, an office, a spare room and afilming area. To the right were the doors to the laundry, a bathroom and then down some steps was the open plan living area, a huge kitchen at the back with a butler’s pantry and a giant island. There was a formal dining area to the left, and then my living area. French doors opened onto a patio with an outdoor fireplace and a seemingly endless desert.

Yes, the bones of my house were breathtaking. The inside had been bachelor central, so I’d had to make a lot of changes to suit my style. I’d never had the money or the home to do this with, so I went a smidge crazy.

Which meant that I had a pink bathroom. A shower tiled floor to ceiling complete with a waterfall showerhead in brass—all of my fixtures were in brass—and the claw sink was also pink. My hand towels were white, cost a bomb and were gorgeous. A Heartleaf plant was snaking down from a ledge I’d had built especially for the plant. There was a standalone, vintage tub that had been outrageously expensive but was worth every cent since I used it at least three times a week.

I’d even splurged and given myself a princess vanity with a large, circular Hollywood mirror lit up with lights and a plush, velvet chair in front of a desk full of perfectly organized perfumes, lotions and makeup brushes. The adjacent drawers were packed full of makeup.

Then, of course, what was supposed to be a third bedroom was my filming room. Lights, camera and background setup to perfection. I’d purchased a comfortable armchair for when I was editing and a desk with two computer screens where I worked the stock market and edited videos.

The rest of the house was just as girly and glamourous with a Bohemian edge. Even though I hadn’t been here long, I’d trusted my gut in thinking I’d found a place to put down roots, so I’d thrown everything I had into making this a home. I’d entertained, had parties, dinners. So I was used to having people in my home, loved it, in fact.

Until right this second.

Until Hades, wearing all black, stood in my pink bathroom looking for intruders, murderers, hitmen.

Because of how I’d grown up, I threw myself into this house, making it mine. So much so that I’d put all of myself into my house. Hades walking through it was like him going through my underwear drawer or seeing me naked. I was suddenly uncomfortable, feeling self-conscious about what conclusions he was drawing about me from my pink bathroom or the red, neon light in my office that read ‘Bad Bitch.’

Then there was the fact that since I was following him around during the ‘walk through’, I was in my bedroom with him. Alone. Not counting Sirius.

I knew I should’ve been thinking about the people who may or may not be hiding in my house, but all I was thinking about was Hades being in my room, a room where there was a bed, one I’d masturbated in thinking about him for the past month.

My heart suddenly became very loud, very rapid, my palms starting to sweat, and I suddenly had trouble stringing a thought together. Fortunately, Hades was not interested in making conversation of any kind, being solely focused on his job. Whatever that was.


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