Making the Cut Read Online Anne Malcom (Sons of Templar MC #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 145606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 582(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
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“You’re going to come again, Gwen,” Cade commanded roughly.

I didn’t answer but I felt myself building, Cade clutched my hips pounding into me hard and deep. I managed to stifle a scream as I came, feeling myself clenching around him milking his release. I collapsed on top of him, rather clumsily, with my belly between us. Cade lifted me off him, tucking me into his side, pulling my leg over his body. I felt him dripping from between my legs. So could he, because he slipped his hand down there, I shuddered, still feeling sensitive.

“My come dripping from your pussy, my baby in your belly, fucking perfect,” he grunted, bringing his fingers to my lips.

I opened my mouth and sucked, tasting our combined fluids.

Cade claimed my mouth. “Still the hottest piece I’ve ever had. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.”

I rested my chin on his shoulder. “You won’t be saying that when I’m in my third trimester, when I’m fat with swollen feet and a screaming bitch because I can’t fit into heels,” I told him seriously.

“You won’t be fat, you’re fuckin’ pregnant and beautiful. And I’ll just have to find a way to keep your mind off your feet,” he declared, rubbing my breasts thoughtfully.

“Well right now my mind is on food. Bacon in particular, with banana and maple syrup.”

Half and hour and a shower later I was happily munching on my plate of deliciousness, my breakdown a distant memory. Cade sitting beside me chomping on some eggs helped a lot.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you want to eat that for breakfast? That baby needs some nutrients,” my mother asked me, entering the kitchen. She looked down at my plate with a raised eyebrow.

“Banana is full of potassium Mum,” I declared.

“And what is bacon and maple syrup full of?” she countered, setting a green tea beside me.

“Happiness,” I said without missing a beat.

Cade chuckled beside me and Mum shook her head with a smile.

“Where are Dad and Amy?” I asked between mouthfuls. It was after ten and Amy was usually down here inhaling her eighth cup of coffee by now. My father could be anywhere, considering he was up at six.

“Your father, believe it or not, is teaching Amy how to ride a quad bike.”

My mouth dropped open, luckily I had swallowed my food already.

“No way!” I pushed my chair back, my breakfast forgotten. “I’ve gotta see this!”

“They’re out at the back paddock, you want to take the truck?” Mum smiled. I was guessing she’d already seen the spectacle.

I grabbed my jacket, slipping on some gumboots, Pink Hunter boots mind you.

“No I’ll just take a bike.” I glanced at Cade, who, up until now, had been smirking into his breakfast, now he was glaring at me.

I gestured the universal ‘come on’ at him. “Hurry up, don’t you want to see this? We’ve got two more bikes in the shed.” I yanked up my second boot and straightened, opening the door. Moving at his usual macho speed of light, Cade was beside me, blocking my way, arms crossed. Now it was my turn to frown.

“What you doing big man? Put your boots on or I’m leaving without you.” I was already figuring out tactics to get around him.

“You’re not going anywhere on a fuckin’ bike,” he declared.

I paused, mid tickling strategy. “What are you talking about? It’s the quickest way to get up there.”

“Jesus Christ, Gwen, you’re almost five months pregnant you aren’t getting on a four wheeler,” Cade all but exploded.

“Yeah I’ve noticed, considering my belly’s grown a bit. Its not like I’m hopping on a dirt bike to go trail riding. It’s a four wheeler and it’s pretty much straight flat to get to the paddock,” I told him impatiently.

“It’s not safe,” he bit out through gritted teeth.

“It’s no less safe than driving in a car, I’ve been on four wheelers since I was a kid Cade. I know what I’m doing.” I glared at him. “Mum a little help here, tell him,” I whined, looking over to the woman that should have be sticking up for me, given she birthed me, but the kitchen was empty. “That witch, she got out of here as soon as this started. My own mother,” I muttered, disgusted.

I tried to push at Cade’s rock hard abs while trying not to run my hands under his t shirt and forget about the whole thing. What was I angry about again?

“For fuck’s sake, Gwen, you’re arguing about our child’s safety here, just take the fucking truck.” His voice was a near yell.

Oh yeah that’s why. “Our child is not in any danger. I’m not an idiot, I don’t go more than thirty and stick to the even terrain. And Dad or Mum are usually always with me,” I told him defensively.

“What?” His voice turned dangerously quiet. Oh shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have alluded to the fact I had already been doing this for months.

“You’re not telling me you’ve been riding on one the entire time.”

I wouldn’t be surprised if steam came out his ears.

“Well I don’t have my magic carpet to safely fly me around, so it’s my only means of transportation,” I shot at him sarcastically.

“Don’t get cute,” he warned. “What if something had happened to you?” he hissed.

“It didn’t.”

“What if it fucking did?” he bellowed. “Do you have any idea how I would cope if something happened to either of you?”

I didn’t answer because I was guessing it was a rhetorical question.

“I’d be fucking ruined! The thought of you crashing.” He visibly shuddered.

I started to feel a bit bad, reaching up to stroke his arm. “Nothing happened and nothing will. I’m not risking Bun. Dad even makes me wear a helmet.” I scrunched my nose up.

“I’m serious, Gwen. Just take the truck, please.” His voice was more even now, but still rough with worry and anger.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. But hurry up. It doesn’t take long to master the art of a four wheeler and I don’t want to miss the swearing and tantrum throwing before she gets the hang of it.” I tried to push past him but he grasped my hips.


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