Made For You (Made For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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“I don’t know.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe this whole ‘driving a boat’ thing.” I almost breathe a sigh of relief when she doesn’t say it’s me being too close to her.

“How are you going to learn if you don’t practice?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes at me.

“I don’t know. I just assumed it would be okay,” she replies, taking her hands off the wheel to shake them.

“You are doing good,” I reassure her. “You know what the colored buoys mean, right?”

“Yes, red buoys are left side,” she says, and I’m about to correct her when she says, “Port.” I smile at her, waiting for her to finish. “Green is the other side.”

“Starboard,” I remind her, and she nods.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” She stays looking ahead, making sure she is focusing on what is in front of her.

“It’s open water.” I try to calm her down. “I’m right here.”

“Okay, tag,” she says, looking at me. “Seriously, can you take over?”

I nod at her, and she steps away from the wheel, and I sit on the chair looking out. “See, was that so bad?” I ask, and she leans down and puts her hands on her knees. Her breathing comes out in pants, and I wonder if I pushed her too fast.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” she declares, standing straight up. “How about I just be co-captain?”

“Do you know what a co-captain does?” I ask as she sits down in the chair next to me.

“I sit here and look pretty, making sure you have water when you need it.” She smiles big, her eyes closing.

I chuckle. “Well, in that case, you’re doing a great job.”

“See, this I can do,” she teases, watching the boat move through the water. I smile over at her, and neither of us says anything as I make my way over to the little cove I always go to.

“See, over there.” I point at the empty water. “We are going to anchor there.”

“That looks so pretty,” she says, taking her phone out of her pocket and snapping a picture.

I reduce my speed as we approach the spot. “Can you just make sure nothing happens?” Her eyes go big, and I turn off the boat. “I’m going to go out and do the anchor.”

I don’t give her a chance to do anything before I walk out on the back deck and along the side toward the front, where I press the anchor button. I look over seeing the chain coming out before it stops. I look up for a couple of minutes, making sure we are anchored and not drifting. When the boat doesn’t move, I look back into the cockpit and see her watching me. “You can move,” I tell her, and her head falls forward, making me laugh.

Heading my way back into the boat, I look at her. “Do you want to sit on the top deck or the lower deck?”

She puts her finger to her mouth. “Decisions, decisions.” She then smiles and looks over at Beatrice. “Which one does she like better?”

“The top one,” I answer her, looking and wondering if she would have kissed me back.

“Then let’s go to the top,” she states, and I nod, turning around and walking out. She reaches down and picks up her pink T-shirt, and when I see her bikini top, my cock goes hard. Like rock hard. The side underboob peeking out makes me want to roll my eyes in the back of my head and groan out loud. It also makes me want to escape downstairs and jerk off. I turn around quickly before she can spot my dick and walk to the back. “What are you doing?” She follows me as I pull up the back bench seat.

“I’m going to roll out the carpet for Beatrice,” I tell her, walking out to the back and snapping the rolled-up carpet before letting it open. “She sometimes likes to sit and sun.”

“Well, now”—she puts her hand over her eyes—“she might have to share that with me.”

I laugh, walking back and standing in front of her. “She doesn’t like to share.”

“Well, she will if she wants a c-o—” I put my hand up to stop her from talking. My eyes go to the top of her tits, but then try not to roam down, seeing the jean shorts falling on her hips.

“Don’t say the word,” I say, walking to the kitchen to grab a cold bottle of water. I might have to pour it over my head at this point.

“I forgot a towel,” she states, and I look over, seeing her bend over, her ass cheeks peeking out. I close my eyes and look out the other window to the water.

“There are towels upstairs,” I inform her, and she smiles.

“Are you coming?” she asks, walking to the stairs.


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