Cannon Read online Samantha Whiskey (Carolina Reapers #5)

Categories Genre: Erotic, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Carolina Reapers Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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Rage, unfiltered and undiluted rushed through my blood, my soul.

“Shut your ignorant mouth,” I snapped. “Cannon is a hundred times the man you’ll ever be, and thank God for that. He’s your opposite in every way. Brilliant where you are dim.” I stepped toward him, my anger radiating off of me in waves. So much the man retreated a step. “Compassionate where you are cold.” Another step, another retreat. “Perceptive where you are oblivious.” I stopped, glaring up at him, my fists shaking at my sides. “Worthy where you are not.”

He clenched his jaw, his face turning ten shades of red.

“You are nothing. And he is everything, and I swear to the Lord above if you don’t get the fuck off my property, I will use all my considerable power and connections to ensure you never live another easy day the rest of your pathetic life.” My heart galloped so fast the words came out a little breathless, but no tears pricked my eyes. I stood my ground, held my spine straight.

His eyes lifted up and behind me, but I didn’t dare turn around in case it was a trick to cause me harm. “I promised you this reckoning would come!” he snapped, still looking over my head. “This is what you get for turning your back on your family.” He pointed down to me. “Marrying a heartless little upper-class piece of ass? I at least thought you were better than that.” He moved to step around me, and I finally turned to see Cannon standing there, fists clenched at his sides, but his eyes? They were on me…shock and awe and disbelief and pain churning in their dark depths.

I spun back around to face Cannon’s biological father, and I moved on instinct, on the sheer will of my soul that screamed to protect him.

“Don’t speak to him,” I said, stepping between him and Cannon. The man reached for me, and I tilted my head. “I dare you to put a hand on me. Go ahead,” I urged, my entire body shaking with adrenaline. “See what happens.”

He paused. In my peripheral vision, not one or two but four Reapers rushed toward the scene.

“Axel,” I said without having to look at the giant to know he’d made it to my side first. “Would you and Lukas please help remove this man from my property?”

“With pleasure,” Axel said, and Lukas nodded as they rounded on Cannon’s father.

“Don’t you put your damned hands on me!” he yelled, but I eyed him.

“Resist, and I’ll phone the police.”

He stopped his struggle, and Axel and Lukas herded him toward the front of the property where I could see Gerald and two of his security detail rushing for us.

Logan and Connell flanked Cannon’s side, but it wasn’t until I watched Axel and Lukas hand off his father to our team that I could truly look at Cannon.

Frozen—the man hadn’t moved, save for the tremble in his fists and the tick in his clenched jaw. I sighed, flashing a grateful look toward Logan and Connell, who were clearly there to help him if he couldn’t hold himself back from the violence I knew surged through his veins. I nodded to them both, and they understood the silent plea, turning around to meet up with Axel and Lukas closer to the house.

I breached the distance between us, slowly, as if approaching a feral jungle cat. Close enough to touch, but I didn’t…couldn’t. “Cannon,” I said, sighing. He’d shown incredible restraint, locking himself down from going after his father…especially after his stream of foul words.

I waited—not reaching for him, not pushing him—simply waited in silence with him as he collected himself. As his breathing evened out. The rise and fall of his chest relaxing as the seconds ticked by. My own heartbeat had yet to calm, and I wrung my hands in an effort to stop their shaking.

Cannon moved then, some leash on himself dropped. Gently, he held my hands palm up, tracing the lines with his thumbs, massaging them until the trembling had soothed. Something heated and electric pulsed between us, between those innocent touches, and I looked up at him, my eyes pleading. Words, there were so many words I needed to say, wanted to say, but my emotions clogged my throat until I could barely breathe.

He took a step back, letting my hands fall to my sides. And that step back felt like an ocean between us, a raging sea I needed to cross but had little strength to do so.

“You haven’t called off the wedding,” he said, glancing around the property like the band might start playing Here Comes the Bride at any moment.

“Neither have you,” I answered, my voice cracking. Our eyes locked, and the charged emotion churning in his sparked something right down to my soul. Some inner piece of himself I had never seen before and couldn’t decipher. The wall gone, I stared at him and begged for understanding. For that common ground we had not so long ago.


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