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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Fuck, there’s that us again.

Why can’t I chase it out of my head?

The very idea of us makes me want to punch myself in the face.

It’s not like she’s my girlfriend.

In the SEALs, we were trained to suss out the flaws in our own thoughts before they became fatal mistakes, and I’m catching myself now.

I don’t care how beautiful she looks, or how much I wish I could burn away the lonely regrets in her big brown eyes.

We’ve got one more night—and one night alone—to make memories worth keeping.

One more night of splendor, booze, and blinding passion before it’s back to the dark of reality.

And in that reality, relationships don’t fit.

I know she’ll be okay in the end.

Evie and Bruce will one hundred percent self-destruct sooner or later. She’ll help pick up the pieces and set things right.

When I gag the jealous little devil in my head, I even hope like hell there’s a good man waiting for her someday. A man with the patience and heart to help her sweep up the fallout of our family shit.

He just won’t be me.

He can’t be.

Delia’s future is too bright to end up with a military man who never learned how to hitch emotions to what lands on his dick.

Reality sucks, but reality rules.

I know what I need to do tonight.

For the next twelve hours, I’ll make Delia Burr happier than she’s ever been.

Then with one last biting, soul-shredding kiss, I’ll be gone.

* * *

We’re outside on the balcony, overlooking the Vegas skyline for the last time.

Even if it’s so beautiful it’s otherworldly out here, I can only drink it in with quick snatches before turning back to what owns my gaze.

Delia, curled up on my lap, her legs slung over me.

Her breath quickens as she breathes me in. I let her have her fill with her face buried in my shoulder.

The fingers I comb through her hair slowly form a greedy fist.

My cock wants to rip straight through my trousers and take her right here, right now, but the mutinous bastard beating in my chest tells me to slow down and savor this.

Enjoy her, you unhinged coyote.

Just this once, I let him win.

We actually cuddle—a word that was never in my vocabulary before—and I’m shocked to admit it isn’t half bad.

Shame I know having her under me is a thousand times hotter.

After twenty minutes of quiet and closeness, I can’t do tender anymore.

“Princess, look at me.”

“Yeah?” Tears are brimming in her eyes, reflecting the golden light below.

Part of me expected it, honestly, but seeing it still hits like a sucker punch.

“You can’t be upset. You know what’s coming tomorrow. It’s for our own good. Think about our futures, our careers and families. We can’t keep living what-ifs, Miss Delia. You need to live right now.”

“I know, I know... It just hurts, okay? I get it. There’s no way we make sense. But I still don’t like losing you, Chris. Why does it have to be so unfair?” She watches me staring, and I wonder if she’s lost her mind or if she really doesn’t understand. “We’re not even related. Not for real. When I’m with you, this thing we have doesn’t feel so crazy... How could it be?”

She twists her lips, deep in thought.

“Whatever.” She sighs softly.

She reaches for my neck, pressing her small hands to my skin. Her nails graze me, stroking more heat in my blood.

Christ.

I’ve seen women look at me lust-drunk before, but this is something else.

The intensity in her eyes almost makes me shoot off in my pants.

An overwhelming urge to rip her dress off and fuck her right here on the balcony darts through me.

I can’t make myself give a fuck who sees or hears us.

“I know you’re right. I just wish you weren’t so bad,” she hisses. “Take me like I mean something tonight. Make this last time the best. Make me remember you forever...”

Holy shit.

Her amber eyes twinkle like she’s possessed, and it’s not the wine from dinner.

I’m so hard it cuts me open.

With a breathless growl, my hand skims down her back and stops on her zipper.

I give her just enough space to fumble the dress off.

Delia doesn’t even protest. She just slides off my lap to stand and let it fall to the floor.

The race is on.

I’m ripping off my vest, my trousers, my boxers.

Anything and everything I need gone to get naked and sink down inside her.

By the time I’m freed from my clothes, she’s next to the wide glass door, one arm folded across her breast.

No fucking way am I letting Miss Modesty butt into tonight.

I grab her hand and pull her toward me, guiding us into the long deck chair, where I throw her down gently.

“Chris? Outside? Are you crazy?” she asks sharply.

I answer by holding her down, parting her legs, and pushing my face toward dessert.


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