Made for Romeo (Made For #4) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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“No, you gave me a second,” I say angrily, and he looks down. “You come in here and just throw out that you never fucked that girl.” My heart is beating so fucking fast and hard I can’t hear anything, so my voice goes so loud as he stares at me.

“What difference does it make?” He stands there, his eyes roaming my whole face. “I still cheated on you. I brought a girl to my house and put my hands on her. I let her touch my body.” His words cut me to the core, but it’s more than that, so much more.

“I slept with someone.” I put my hands to my chest. “I slept with someone,” I repeat the words again, but this time, my voice trails off.

“We weren’t even together.” He throws his hands up, and it just angers me even more.

“Go away!” I shout at him, and he folds his arms over his chest.

“Why are you pissed right now?” he asks, his stance showing me he’s not going anywhere.

“Because I slept with someone to get back at you!” I admit, shouting. “I didn’t even want to sleep with him, but I did anyway because I was like, if Romeo can do it, so can I.” I put the hand to my chest. “I did it to get back at you, yes, but in the end, I slept with him.” I shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around what just happened.

“So he wasn’t better than me?” He smirks at me, and now I’m the one with my hands folding over my chest.

“Really? That’s the only thing bothering you right now?” I glare at him. “Out of everything I just said, that is the only thing you are picking up?”

“Well, does it bother me you were with someone?” His voice now goes low.

“More than I can put into words.” His hands fall to his sides, and he clenches his fists together. “Does it bother me that I made you do that?” My heart speeds up. “Again, you have no idea, but I have to take responsibility that my actions pushed you to do that.” He takes a step toward me. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I look down at the floor, and I see his hand come up and go under my chin to raise it to look at him. “You did nothing wrong.” I look into his eyes. “I’m sorry I did that to you.” He kisses my lips softly. “It also helps that he sucked,” he jokes with me, and I push away from him.

“You’re a dick,” I retort before I slam the door in his face.

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen after you calm down,” he addresses the closed door. “Love you, beautiful.”

I want to yell out that I hate him, but instead, I don’t say anything. I just listen to his footsteps walk away from the door. When I know he’s gone, I let out a big exhale before walking over to the sink and turning on the water. “He never slept with her,” I tell myself. “Good God.” I shake my head, cupping water in my hands and then washing my face with it. “All this and he didn’t even fuck her.” I shake my head. I don’t know whether to be happy or pissed that he didn’t. “It doesn’t change what I did.” I hear his voice clear as day. “I brought her home and put my hands on her.” I close my eyes, blocking out the image from my head. An image that now comes with him pushing her off him.

I wipe off my hands before opening the door and walking back into the kitchen, the smell of garlic is now filling the room. “Hi,” he throws over his shoulder while he moves the pot to stir the shrimp. “Feeling better?” I don’t say anything to him. “Are we still talking?” I glare at him. “Maybe we should refrain from the twenty questions,” he jokes and comes over to me and wraps me in his arms and I let him. “Why don’t you go sit down and put on a show we can watch?”

“You can’t charm me with television.” I look up at him, and even he knows I’m lying. When I had a stressful day or any time I just felt off, he knew right away and would let me just sort it out.

“Why don’t we catch up with Below Deck Down Under?” he suggests, kissing my lips and then my neck. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Whatever,” I reply, wrapping my arms around his waist and getting on my tippy-toes to kiss his neck. Being in his arms, it’s like coming home again. It’s like I was made to fit in them. “It better be good,” I say right before I turn and walk into the living room, where I put on my Below Deck and try to make sense of what just happened.


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