Contempt (Sin City Salvation #3) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
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Her eyes flutter open, and she sucks in a breath when she sees me standing there, staring at her like a goddamn psychopath.

“Lunch.” I force the word out and shove the plate into her hands before I turn around and head for the door. I’ve got to get the fuck out of here before I do something stupid.

Chapter 22

Madden

—PAST—

That night, Bianca isn't there when I go to the lake. She doesn’t show, even after an hour, and I can’t shake the feeling that this is the beginning of the end. I’ve sensed her distance all week. She’s been putting in the work. Doing extra therapy hours. Participating in bullshit group activities. Talking about her feelings with everyone but me.

Every day at group, I feel her eyes on me when my turn comes around. She wants me to open up. She wants me to do the work too. But Bianca doesn’t get it. Talking about our feelings won’t change a goddamn thing. When she goes home, she’ll still have to play the role her parents cast for her. And when I go home, I’ll still be Stefan’s punching bag. Nothing anyone can say will change that reality.

I sit down on the shoreline and toss a few stones into the water. Uncomfortable silence envelops me, and it’s the first real taste of what it will be like without her. I know her parents will haul her away any day now. I’ve been quietly obsessing over it, trying to come up with the words to convince her she doesn’t have to do this. But those words don’t exist. Bianca thinks she can save her father, and she’ll do whatever it takes.

I can’t blame her for her choice. Not when she doesn’t really have one. But I can still hate that this burden is on her shoulders.

The reality of it weighs me down as I drag myself back up and walk to my bunkhouse. Defeat is a shitty cross to bear. I don’t know how to fix this, but I can’t accept it either. I’m not sure I ever will.

I open the window to my room and climb inside, kicking off my shoes right there. I don’t bother to turn on the light as I strip off my tee shirt and kick off my jeans. I just want to crawl into bed and sleep like the dead, forget about everything for a minute. But when I pull back the covers and slip inside, something brushes against my skin, and then I hear her voice.

“Shh, it’s me,” she whispers.

“Bianca?” I glance over and try to make out her face in the dark. “Are you naked?”

She doesn’t answer, so I lean over and flip on the bedside light. When I turn back to her, she’s curled up in my comforter, biting her lip with a nervous smile.

“I want this with you, Madden,” she tells me. “I mean, if that’s what you want, too.”

Warmth explodes into my veins as my eyes move over her. She’s holding her breath while she waits for my response as if I’d ever fucking deny her.

I roll into her, pulling the covers open, so we’re skin to skin before I settle my arm around her waist. “I want, Bianca. I definitely want.”

I lower my lips to hers, and she makes a strangled sound when she feels the weight of my cock against her stomach. The tips of her nipples scrape against my chest, and I rumble my approval into her mouth. It sends a sharp jolt of possession through me, knowing that she’s giving herself to me this way. I want to leave my mark on her. I want to fuck her so thoroughly, she’ll never think of anyone else.

My hand tangles in her hair as I drag my lips over her jaw and down to the beating pulse in her throat. When I scrape my teeth over her skin, she shivers against me, panting out my name. I do it again, just to play that sound on repeat.

Her fingers curl into my back, nails biting into my skin. She clings to me like she could come just from what I’m doing to her neck. I haven’t even gotten started with her, and she’s so fucking reactive. I just want to blow my load inside her right now.

When my fingertips skate along her side and down between her thighs, she’s soaking wet for me. I mutter a curse as she looks up, cheeks flushed and hair thoroughly messed from me grabbing it. She looks like she’s mine, and I have to stop for a minute just to let it soak in.

“Is everything… okay?” she asks.

“Yes,” I answer in a gravelly voice. “Fuck, Bianca. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

Her eyes soften, and she answers so quietly I almost don’t hear it.


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