Made For Us (Made For #3) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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I throw my head back and laugh, bringing the glass back to my lips and drinking the rest of the whiskey. From the side, I watch him lift the glass to his lips, wanting to be a crystal glass all of a sudden. Truth be told, I want to be anything he touches. “Tell me, Abigail.” He says my name in almost a whisper. “What is it you are going to miss?”

Seeing you every day, I say in my head. “Spending time with everyone,” I finally say, bringing the glass to my lips again, swallowing the little liquid that the ice gave off.

“Everyone,” he emphasizes, almost as a joke.

“Christopher less than anyone.” I lean in closer to him as we sit with our back to the couch. I hold my glass in my hand as I look over at him, a soft breeze blows my hair into my face, and I let out a little chuckle.

His hand comes up to my face as he takes a strand of hair and tucks it behind my ear. “I’m going to miss this,” he says softly. I want to ask him what exactly he is going to miss, but I don’t say a word because if I do, I’m afraid he will realize his head is getting closer and closer to mine. I’m afraid to do anything to stop what I think is going to happen.

His hand still on my cheek, his head closes the distance between us, and all I can see is his eyes on mine. My mouth goes suddenly dry as my tongue comes out and licks my bottom lip. “Abigail,” he says breathlessly, right before his lips are on mine. My eyes stay open to make sure this is really happening and I’m not dreaming about it. I keep my eyes open until his tongue comes out and finds mine. My hand comes out to hold his cheek as his hand moves from the side of my face into my hair. He grips the base of my head, pulling me to him as his tongue goes around and around.

I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. My eyes flicker open again to make sure I’m not dreaming. I almost pinch myself to make sure I’m not asleep. He turns his head to the side, deepening the kiss, and just from this one kiss, I know I never want to kiss anyone else ever again. Just from this one kiss, I know that everything I thought was a kiss… wasn’t. Just from this one kiss right now, I know I’ve been ruined for all men who will come after him.

He lets my lips go as his forehead presses into mine. Our chests rise and fall at the same time as his eyes search mine. “Abigail.”

His hands fall out of my hair, and he moves away from me. My lips tingle from the kiss and also missing his. He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry.” The three words come out of his mouth, and it sounds like he’s in pain. “I am so, so sorry.” He just looks at me.

I put the glass in my hand onto the couch next to me where he just got up from. His eyes watch my every move. I walk to him, taking the glass out of his hand. The whole time, I’m waiting for him to run away. The whole time, I’m telling myself if I have him for only one night, it might be just enough. The whole time, I’m telling myself there is no way I’m not taking a chance at it. He kissed me, but one kiss isn’t enough. “Tristan.” I say his name when I turn around and stand in front of him. The liquid courage of the whiskey is probably taking over, but I don’t care. “I’m not sorry,” I declare right before I lean in and lick his lips. “I’m not sorry, not one little bit,” I reaffirm, crushing my lips on his. My hands don’t go to his cheeks this time. Instead, they go into his hair. My body presses against him, and I swallow the moan that wants to escape him. His hands come up to my waist and then roam my back into my hair.

My chest is crushed to his, my tongue fighting with his. The first kiss was soft and tender, the way a first kiss should be. I haven’t kissed many guys—in fact, I’ve only kissed two—but I know this kiss is different. It’s full of need, the need to get even closer to him, which seems to be ridiculous because I’m literally plastered to him. His whole body feels like he’s covering me, yet I want to get even closer. I don’t ever want this kiss to end. I never want this moment to end. “Abigail.” He finally lets my lips go, but I don’t give him much time to talk, or maybe he doesn’t give me much time to talk because our lips meet again.


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