Doctored Vows (Marital Privilages #1) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Marital Privilages Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
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After breathing out my annoyance—and perhaps a smidge of nerves—I cross the foyer that appears far larger than it did when I checked in.

“It is okay. You’re fine and dressed.” My last word is solely for my swirling-down-the-drain confidence. I’ve never felt more naked, and I’ve had sex. It was just under the covers with the lights out like my self-pleasing expedition last night.

I didn’t even feel this exposed when Maksim yanked my pants to my knees in a well-lit bathroom.

The heaviness on my shoulders slackens when I’m buzzed into a tropical paradise worthy of its hefty price tag. The landscaped grounds are brimming with people of all genders and ages, and the lazy river has several hotel guests floating by on inflatable pool toys.

The further I merge into the bustling space, the more I smile. I thought the event would be as tactless as its stigma implies, but the vibe is more happening than sleazy. People are laughing and talking, a DJ is playing the latest hits in the far corner of the beautifully landscaped gardens, and a handful of women with heads of silver strands are tacking competition numbers onto their sequined bikini tops. The leader of the pack has a rocking body for a person her age, and her confidence makes the signs of age on her face nonexistent.

“Good luck,” I encourage her as I veer past.

Her eyes twinkle with kindness when she replies, “I would offer you the same, but I don’t think you’ll need it, sweetheart. You are beautiful.”

Her praise isn’t the first I’ve heard today, but it is the first time I’ve believed it since it wasn’t delivered with a sexual proposition. “Thank you, but I’m not entering. I am here supporting my friends.”

I smile when she pretends to wipe sweat from her brow, and then I force my hands to my sides.

“Much better,” she assures me, clearly missing the nerves fluttering in my stomach.

When the contestants are called to the stage area, I make a beeline for a bar to its left. It looks like it belongs on a beach in Bali. Leis hang from the thatched roof, and coconuts are spread across the battered wood surface. It looks so worn you would swear it has been here for years, not the two months this hotel has been operating.

“What can I get you?” asks a bartender with a cute smile and shaggy, surfer-boy hair.

“Ah…” As he places a coaster down in front of me, I scan the shelves behind him like I don’t know I will only order tap water. I learned the hard way how expensive bottled water is when I graduated with honors. “I think I’ll stick with water. I don’t want to become dehydrated.” My confidence takes another hit when I’m forced to ask, “It’s free, right?”

I breathe a little easier when he jerks up his chin.

After filling a cocktail glass with water and adding two olives so I don’t look like a loser, he places it in front of me and then angles his head. “You’re the girl from the buffet, right? The one who arrived late with her friend?”

My balk is louder than my reply. “Yes. That’s me.”

He steps back before fanning his arms wide. “Then why the hell are you drinking tap water? The bar is your oyster, baby. You can have anything your heart desires.”

“Huh?”

He smiles like my daftness is cute. “You’re staying in the penthouse. That means everything in the hotel is free.”

The thudding of my penny-pinching heart echoes in my reply. “Everything?” When he nods, I ask, “What about the steakhouse restaurant on the second floor?”

“Everything.” He says one word as if it is several. “You can have anything your heart desires, and it’ll be at the Ivanovs’ expense.”

Like a genie being summoned from a lamp, Maksim exits a poolside cabana closest to the stage. An unlit cigarette hangs from his mouth, and his business attire has been switched for board shorts and a black T-shirt. He’s casual, sexy, and dangerous—the very epitome of what I imagined while bringing myself to climax.

My pulse spikes when his head suddenly cranks to the side. His lips quirk around his cigarette when he unearths the owner of the heated stare. I would like to say that is his only response to my presence. Regretfully, it isn’t. His brows also knit, which scours his forehead with a scowling groove.

After dragging his eyes down my body, he lights his cigarette and takes in a long draw, hopeful it will hide the tic his jaw got when his eyes landed on my almost naked derriere.

I usually loathe anything that causes unnecessary stress on your body, but I can’t help but be mesmerized by the chain of smoke that leaves his mouth as he drinks in the bottom half of my bikini for the second time. Since I’ve yet to take a seat, my ass is hanging out for the world to see, and the balling of Maksim’s hands announces he finds that as unacceptable as I do.


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