Mine To Hold (Southern Wedding #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Wedding Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
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She gets out before me, and I finish washing myself while she dries her hair. She puts on the pink dress, and I stop drying myself. The back hangs low until her ass crack, but it's more than that I can see her ass. "It's see-through," I tell her, and she turns around, and I see the front hangs low, and I see her perk nipples.

"It's not see-through." She looks down at herself. "It's like an illusion."

"Is that what we are calling see-through these days?" I drop my towel and slide into my shorts.

She shakes her head and walks out of the bathroom door seeing everything gone. The only thing that is still there are the rose petals. We walk to the back of the deck and find a table set up right under an umbrella. "I'm starving," she says, slipping her hand in mine as we walk out of the room toward the table. Roberto is right there pushing a cart of food toward the table. "Right on time." She smiles as I pull out a chair for her to sit down. She grabs the mimosa and finishes it. "I'm parched." She winks at me. "After that workout."

I shake my head as Roberto puts fruit on the table, followed by burgers, chicken, some grilled fish, and veggies. "I'll be back with dessert," he says to us, walking away while Shelby grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket beside her and pours some more into a glass, followed by orange juice.

"We should talk," she says, and I have to smirk at her as I grab a burger and put it on her plate. It was only a matter of time before she would have to talk about it. I knew it was coming.

"We should. A lot has happened in the last couple of days," I say, grabbing my own burger.

"A lot has happened," she agrees, taking a bite of her burger while I grab a bottle of beer from a cooler beside me. I twist open the top and take a pull of it.

"Where should we start?" I ask her. "I would like to start at the obvious." She looks at me. "We had sex."

"We did," she confirms and reaches for another drink.

"And that makes you nervous?" Her hand stops midway to her mouth, and she just looks at me. I laugh.

"It doesn't make me nervous." She puts the glass down. "It makes me . . ." She tries to think of the word.

"It makes you uneasy, which is the same thing as nervous." I take a bite of my burger.

"Okay, fine," she admits finally, and she looks at me. Her blue eyes are lighter than I've ever seen before. Her face is tanned just a touch from the last two days in the sun. Her hair is blowing in the wind; she is just perfect. "I'm nervous about it."

"Why are you nervous?" I ask her, and she leans back in her chair, and my eyes go to her nipples that are pointing out of her dress.

She looks down and sees what I'm staring at, but she doesn't move. Instead, she meets my question with her own. "Are you not nervous?"

"No," I admit honestly. "But I've thought about having sex with you before." I bring the beer to my lips. "So"—I shrug—"I'm not nervous."

"That doesn't mean shit," she says, grabbing my bottle of beer and taking a pull from it. "Thinking about it and doing it are two different things."

"Yeah, you’re right about that." I laugh. "Doing it was a million times better than it was in my head." She just smiles shyly and looks down at her plate. "Why are you hiding from me?"

She looks up at me, and I can see she's trying to tell me something. "How about we make it that this conversation is a one-time conversation, and whatever is said during this time stays here?”

She puts her elbows on the table and folds her hands together. "That works," she says, and I wait for her to say what she has to say. "And if you don't mind, I'd like to just get it all out, so if you have anything you have to say, I ask that you wait until after." I nod at her for her to go, not sure what she is going to say. I definitely know that I was not ready for what she was going to say. "I like sex," she says, and I smirk at her. "Like a lot, but I haven't been having sex a lot because, well, apparently I wasn't the only one having sex with him. He was never in the mood, and well, you can only be turned down so many times before you just stop asking." My stomach burns as the knots start to form and then anger sets in. "I was also not open with how much I wanted to have sex nor did I ask for things. I know that I'm not that good at some things."


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