Meant for Stone (Meant For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Meant For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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“No,” he says and then silently laughs. “Come on, let me show you my home.” He reaches back and grabs my bag and jacket as I get out of the truck. The cool air hits my bare ass as I tiptoe to the front of the truck, looking over at the car he mentioned before. “Give me that.” He holds out his hands to take my jeans and boots.

“I can carry that,” I tell him but he just walks up the steps toward the door to the house. I follow him up the stairs, stepping into his white-and-black mudroom. He has about six or seven pairs of sneakers all lined up along the wall with jackets that are hanging.

He dumps my boots beside his shoes and then looks over at me. “Come on, gorgeous.” He motions with his head. “This is my kitchen,” he says of the white-and-gray kitchen.

“Can we do the tour maybe when I’m not, I don’t know…” I motion to my vagina area.

“To the bedroom it is.” He takes one of my hands and pulls me through the house. I have enough time to see the family pictures hanging on the walls as we walk up the stairs toward the bedroom down the long hallway.

He walks in and turns on the lights to the massive room with its own sitting area. The big king-size bed in the middle of the room is against a dark gray wall. The covers on the bed are white with the same color throw pillows. The side tables are a gray also, but an almost gray blue. He walks to the side where the sitting area faces a wall of windows, and I see that it leads to a balcony with furniture. He walks to the corner of the room, and I walk through a hallway that has a closet on each side. I see his clothes in one and nothing in the other one. My mind suddenly wonders if there was ever anything in the other one, while I tell myself it’s none of my business.

I walk into the white bathroom, with a long vanity against the wall that is a light gray and a white counter. The two sinks have enough space between them to have a cream-colored vase with blue-gray fake flowers. Two mirrors are in front of each sink, with lights on each side of the mirror.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks, pointing at the shower with glass doors, right next to a big white bathtub that has a black side table next to it with a little tree. “Or a bath?”

“Actually, a shower would be great.”

“Yesss,” he exclaims cheerfully, “I was hoping you would say that.” He walks over to the shower, opens the glass door, and starts the water. “I’ll be right in to join you.”

“What makes you think I want you to join me?” I stand in the middle of his bathroom. “Maybe I want time to myself.”

“Well then, I guess you might be shit out of luck.” He shrugs off his jacket and tosses it on the little bench beside the table I didn’t see. “You came to surprise me, which means I get to spend the whole weekend with you by my side.” He kisses me behind the ear. “And I have to say, gorgeous”—he smiles big—“I couldn’t be fucking happier.” He winks at me before walking out of the bathroom and, like, because I’m me, I follow him. He walks into the empty closet and puts my bag down.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he opens my bag.

“I’m putting your stuff away,” he states, grabbing my stuff and placing it on the built-in shelves. “Why aren’t you in the shower?”

“I’m only here for two days.” I try to get my head to stop spinning. “I can just live out of my bag.”

“But this way you’ll feel more comfortable.” He places everything on the shelf and then grabs my toiletries bag, walking past me again and toward the bathroom, where he puts it next to the sink. He pulls his shirt out of his pants and unbuttons it, and then all I can do is stare at him as he takes his shirt off. My mouth waters to taste him, and my hands tingle to touch him. He kicks off his shoes and tosses them to the side where his shirt lies. His pants and boxers follow, leaving him like a Greek god in front of me. “You coming?” He motions with his head toward the shower, where he opens the door and steps in. The water cascades around him as he tilts his head back and then runs his hands through his hair. His eyes shine as he smirks at me. “I’m going to take all the hot water and all you’ll be left with is the cold.”


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