Bound To Him (Blurred Lines #1) Read Online Belle Aurora

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Blurred Lines Series by Belle Aurora
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
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Interesting.

Curious, I sat on the top step and fished the black rectangular box out of its bag. It had golden hinges and there was a golden spade symbol on the front with the letter A embossed into it. When I sat the box down and opened it, a golden bottle sat in its black velvet lining and it had me asking a quietly confused, “What is this?”

Marco whistled low. “That is Armand de Brignac.” I blinked up at him, puzzled. “Ace of Spades.” I shrugged. “Brut.” My brows rose in question and he sighed lightly at my obvious ignorance. “Champagne. Expensive champagne.”

The second he said the words, my mouth fell open. I held the gorgeous bottle up, in front of my face, examining it, and out came a mystified, “High end champagne.”

My stomach flip-flopped.

Well, I guess that answered one question.

Well, it was undeniable now. Ettore had indeed been watching me.

A slow smile spread across my face but my brow dipped low.

How did he manage it?

Even incommunicado, in radio silence, he was flirting with me, and doing a good job.

I couldn’t help but be impressed.

Marco’s eyes narrowed on me. “I feel like I’m missing a major part of the story here. Do I even want to know?”

I shook my head, but that smile remained. I grew a little shy when I stated, “It’s a personal joke.”

And Marco’s brows rose as he asked an incredulous, “You and Tor have jokes now?”

The bottle sparkled in the sunlight. Suddenly, my chest expanded and I breathed so much easier. “Apparently.”

I brought the bottle inside, took it from its box and placed it carefully into the refrigerator. I closed the door gently and gave quiet pause before speaking out loud. “I know I earned it, but I’ll save it for when you come to visit.”

My soft smile drooped momentarily. Some of my happiness ebbed as I asked, “You are coming to visit, aren’t you?”

My heart felt strangled and I felt my ego dissolve into a puddle at my feet when I all but begged, “Please visit.”

Days passed and we were now approaching mid-April. It was a beautiful, warm day.

I heard the front door open as I began the short walk downstairs. “Marco?” My hair was still wet from the shower I’d taken. I ran my fingers through it and the cute little floral, long sleeved day dress stuck to my thighs as I called out, “So long as you’re in the kitchen, could you pour me a mug?” Still tired from the night before, I muttered under my breath, “I hope it’s strong enough to kickstart a car because need it.”

Barefoot and breezy, I didn’t even look up when I entered the kitchen, but saw the tall silhouette by the counter. Without pausing, I sashayed over to the cabinet by the fridge, opened it and pulled out two dessert plates. “I’ll cut you a piece of cake.” I closed the cabinet and said, “It’s chocolate. I’m pretty sure I messed up somewhere so it’s a little on the dense side, but it’s still cake so I’d rate it a six. Seven if you’re feeling generou-”

When I turned and my eyes landed on him, I stopped breathing. My hands fell to my sides, and the plates went along with them. My heart stammered. It took me a long time to find my voice, but when I did, all I could do was rasp out, “Hi.”

Oh my God.

He was even more handsome than I remembered. Ettore stood tall with legs slightly apart, his hands in front of him, playing with his wedding ring.

He’s here.

My husband had impeccable taste and it showed in his sense of style. Dressed flawlessly in a black tailored three-piece suit, his hooded eyes trailed down the length of me, head to toe, and I swear, I felt it, a gentle caress over my body. When he started to move, the sound of each meticulous footstep had my stomach clenching as he began to round the counter, and my heart beat elevated.

It seemed like some things hadn’t changed. My being so affected by him was one of those things.

He’s here.

The tension between us grew and the plates clinked loudly in the grossly silent space as I clumsily placed them back onto the counter behind me. When he paused in his steps, leaning casually against the kitchen island, watching me through the shadows in his eyes, I breathed out, “You’re here.”

And just as he opened his mouth to respond, with no doubt something witty and snarky all the same, I don’t know what came over me. He seemed to anticipate my move a second after I made it because when I launched myself at him, he caught me mid-air with very little effort. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs tangled around his lean waist. He threw an arm under my butt, tugging me upwards and when he lowered his face, I lifted my own. Our lips met in a hungry, all-consuming, teeth jarring kiss that would ruin every other kiss for me. My palms slid over his strong shoulders, up passed his neck and then I was holding his face in my hands, prepared for war should be decide to deny me his lips.


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