Small Town Swoon (Cherry Tree Harbor #4) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Forbidden Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
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The wedding guests all raised their glasses and some shouted “Hear, hear!” After taking a sip of my sparkling wine, I caught Dash’s eye as he walked back to his chair and sat down again, right next to me.

“Well?” he asked over the din of forks clanking on glasses. “How did I do?”

I smiled. “You were brilliant. Very heartfelt. I was all choked up, and then you made me laugh.”

“Good.” He mocked wiping sweat off his forehead. “I’m glad that’s done.”

I rubbed his shoulder. “You dug deep.”

“I tried.”

“Your heart energy came through loud and clear. Delphine would be so proud of you.”

He laughed. “Thanks.” Then he shocked me by putting his arm along the back of my chair, leaning over, and planting a kiss on my temple. “But it was you I wanted to impress.”

My heart was galloping wildly. “We are not being very discreet right now.”

“Do you care?”

I shook my head. “Do you?”

“Nope. Have I told you how beautiful you look in that dress?”

“A few times,” I said, laughing as I tucked my hair behind my ear. “But you can say it as much as you want.”

“You look beautiful in that dress.” He put his lips at my ear. “Please tell me I’ll get to take it off you later.”

“Your chances are good,” I murmured, running a hand along his thigh.

“Is it too early to leave?”

I burst out laughing. “We haven’t eaten yet, Dash.”

“The only meal I care about is under that red dress.”

My skin burned with desire. “Be patient. We’ve got all night.”

But I was just as anxious as he was to be alone.

We only had two nights left.

We managed to make it through dinner, through cake and dancing, through late-night cocktails and snacks in the bar. But eventually, Dash came up behind me and whispered in my ear once more. “You have a choice.”

“Oh?”

“We can either walk out of here together or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. But one way or another, we are going up to my room in five seconds.”

I looked over my shoulder at him. “Either way makes it pretty obvious what we’re doing.”

“Four.”

“Xander is looking at us right now.”

“Three.”

“I should let Mabel know.”

“Two.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. “Don’t do anything crazy. How about you walk out, I’ll tell Mabel what’s up and meet you in the lobby.”

“Fine. But if you’re not out there by the time I count to ten, I’m coming back in to do something crazy.”

“I’ll be out there before you can count to ten, I promise.”

He dropped a kiss on my shoulder. “Good girl.”

Up in his room, Dash didn’t even bother taking the dress all the way off. He set me on the edge of his bed and knelt at my feet, his head disappearing beneath the flowing red material. Only after he’d pulled my skimpy underwear off and made me come with his tongue did he stand up, shrug off his suit coat and yank his tie loose, toeing off his shoes at the same time. I jumped to my feet, eager to help, desperate to be skin to skin.

I slipped the tie from his collar. I tugged the belt from the loops. My fingers trembled as I made my way down the column of buttons on his dress shirt. With every piece of clothing I removed, my heart tripped harder, its drumbeat accelerating in my ear. T-shirt. Pants. Boxer briefs. Finally, he was naked in front of me.

Crushing my lips to his, I ran my hands all over his skin—chest and arms and shoulders. I slid my fingers into his hair. I raked my nails down his back. I grabbed his ass and squeezed.

“Dress. Off,” he growled into my mouth.

I spun around. “Buttons at the back of my neck. Zipper down the side.”

He cursed as his big hands fumbled with the tiny buttons, eventually working them free from the loops. Finding the zipper pull at my ribcage, he dragged it down, and the dress fell like rose petals to my feet. Turning to face him, I threw my arms around him as our mouths came together. Wrapped in his solid embrace, I luxuriated in the heat of his chest against mine, the taste of his kiss, the hard length of his cock pressing against my belly.

He picked me up and dropped me onto the bed, stretching out above me. I could tell by the way he moved this would not be playful or patient. Inside a minute, he was filling me up, driving inside me with deep, powerful strokes. I didn’t care—I wanted him that way, fast and hard and right there, yes, yes, yes . . . I pulled him closer, begged him not to be gentle, not to hold back. I said his name again and again, just to feel it on my lips, like someone might take it away from me. I bucked my hips beneath his, matching his fevered rhythm, his frantic pace. Our skin grew damp, our muscles straining, and then we couldn’t hold back anymore, our bodies releasing the tension in glorious bursts of shared bliss.


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