Made For Me (Made For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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“Do you want to start the toast?” he asks and I put four slices in the toaster. I walk over and grab the utensils and the orange juice, placing them on the table in the middle. I place two placemats next to each other and then I think maybe I should have them face-to-face. I spend way too much time overthinking it, and when I turn around, he’s walking from the kitchen with two plates in his hands. I have this crazy sense of déjà vu and I have to shake my head to stop the thoughts that are coming at me.

“I finished your eggs,” he announces as he places a plate down in front of me and then another in front of himself.

“I’ll grab the coffee,” I say, walking away from him and the way this whole thing feels like it’s a normal thing for us, because it’s not. The only times we’ve had breakfast together is when we were on vacation with each other or if the family is having a brunch. Him cooking for me is definitely not a normal occurrence in my life.

I fill my cup with more coffee and grab the half-empty cup beside the stove, refilling it also. “You forgot glasses for the juice,” he informs me when I feel his hand on my hip as he towers over me as he reaches for two glasses.

I let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding when he walks back to the table, my heart beating so fast in my chest, it’s all I hear in my ears. I place the cup of coffee in front of him and slide into the chair beside him. “Thank you,” he says, picking up his coffee cup.

“I think it’s me who should be thanking you for making me breakfast,” I reply nervously, and I swear my hands are going to leak soon they are so sweaty with nerves.

“What are your plans for today?” he asks as he grabs a forkful of scrambled eggs.

“I have to be in court at ten,” I say. “Then I think I’m going to go into the office and read through Monica’s file again and make sure everything is in place.” I grab my own forkful of eggs. “What about you?”

“I have to be at the rink at ten, it’s optional skate.” He takes a bite of toast and I wonder if he is going to tell Michael about making me breakfast. “There is one of the rookies who got hurt last time and he’s taking it bad. So I’m going to go in and train with him.”

“You just rescue everyone.” I push down the way my leg moves nervously when I think he just stayed with me to make sure I was okay. I mean, I don’t even know what I was expecting. “You might need a cape to match the hammer,” I joke with him and he laughs. Again, I feel like we’ve done this before, except this time I lean over and kiss him on his neck, right where I know his heart beats.

“I’m going to go get dressed,” I state, getting up and leaving half my plate. “I’m not really a breakfast girl.” He raises his eyebrows. “When I’m not on vacation or hungover.” His lips roll as I grab the cup of coffee. “Finish mine.” I push the plate to him. “Leave the dishes, I’ll clean them up,” I urge, turning and walking away from him before I do something stupid like drop my robe and straddle him.

Closing the door behind me, I walk over to the side table and grab a pair of lace panties, slipping them on before I walk over to the closet where I grab a pair of cream-colored pants. I take the robe off, tossing it on the bed and seeing his jacket there. “Fuck,” I curse, putting my lace bra on and just grabbing the first brown short-sleeve shirt I see. Grabbing his jacket, I rush out of the bedroom door, hoping to catch him before he leaves. Instead, I find him cleaning the kitchen. “I said I would clean,” I remind him as he closes the dishwasher and turns to look at me.

This time his dress shirt is back on. “I had time,” he says and he looks at the jacket in my hand. “Did you think I left without it?”

“I wasn’t sure,” I say as he walks to me.

“My shoes are also in there,” he says, walking past me and into the bedroom. I close my eyes and try to avoid feeling like an idiot. At this point, I need him to get out of my space so I can think clearly. He walks back from the room and holds out his hand for his jacket. “May I?” he asks and I just laugh at myself.


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