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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“Do you want me to show you in the light?” He rolls his lips, and all I can do is glare at him,

“Would you like me to get naked in the light?” I ask him, and the smirk turns into a full-blown smile.

“Yes.” He nods his head. “Yes, I would, but we don’t have time for that,” he replies, shocking me. “Did you need something?”

I’m completely thrown for a loop since he answered that way. My head feels like it’s spinning.

“We can tell my parents whenever you are free,” I mumble, trying to think of anything but him and me being naked. Or better yet, us being naked and having sex literally anywhere in his house.

“Okay,” he replies.

“I’ll let you get dressed,” is the only thing I say before I turn and walk away from him. I don’t even turn to look over my shoulder because I feel like my face is on fire. When I finally make it downstairs, I walk over to the kitchen sink. Turning the water on cold, I wet my hand and then put it on my cheek to calm it down. I feel like my face is on fire. Scratch that, my whole body feels like it’s on fire, and the only thing I can think of is he’s the only one who can put it out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

TRISTAN

I watch her walk down the stairs and then hear the sink turn on before I close the door behind myself. My cock has never been harder in my life. It almost feels like it’s stone.

Seeing her standing in front of me, getting all flustered, all I wanted to do was kiss the shit out of her and then place her on my bed and slide into her. The thought makes me even harder, if that is possible. I walk over to grab a pair of pants and a T-shirt before turning around and walking downstairs.

My cock is still hard, and even though I’ve tried thinking of things to deflate it, nothing is working. It’s like my body knows she’s here and wants her. I walk into the kitchen and see her bite a piece of toast as she cleans up all the stuff I left on the counter. My heart literally fills up to I don’t even know what degree, all I know is I love that she is here. I love she slept here. I love I got to wake up with her, even though it wasn’t in my bed. I love walking downstairs and seeing her here. I basically love everything about her. She goes back to the plate and takes a bite of her toast again before walking and putting the plate in the dishwasher. She looks up at me and smiles. “How long were you standing there?” she asks as she walks back to the sink and washes her hands.

“Not long. Are you ready?”

She grabs the towel to dry off her hands, walking around the counter and putting her hand on her stomach. I ache to touch her. “I am.”

“Do you feel anything?” I ask her, and she just shakes her head.

“Sometimes I feel some flutters, but other than that, nothing so far.” She rubs her hand over her stomach. “Would you like to?” She holds up her hands, and I can’t stop myself from walking to her.

Both my hands go to her stomach. I look down, seeing my hands on her, which does nothing for my cock. I step even closer to her, wanting to lean down and kiss her stomach, but instead, I look up and see her watching me. The tears in her eyes evident. “Thank you,” I murmur before I lower my head and my lips touch hers ever so softly. “For taking such good care of our son.”

“You’re welcome,” she whispers, smiling at me. My hands fall from her stomach, and I wish I could put them back.

“Okay, so I have to go into work today for a couple of hours,” I tell her as we walk to the front door. “I can be done at noon.”

She nods at me. “Then we are off tomorrow. We leave the day after for the West Coast. What is your schedule?” I stop at the front door.

“I am off for the next three days, and then I do four night shifts,” she replies to me as she grabs her bag and puts it over her shoulder.

“Okay, so we have two options,” I tell her, taking a deep inhale. “We can get on a plane this afternoon and arrive at dinnertime.”

“If we leave here at noon, we arrive at around four thirty local time.” She grabs her phone and pulls up something. “New York is not playing tonight, and they have a home game tomorrow, so I don’t think he’s traveling.” I see her fingers moving over the keyboard. “Just texted my mother to ask.”


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