Only One Mistake (Only One #6) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Only One Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
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I scroll the list, my mind still reeling from what he just said. He showed up at my house, waiting for me. I can’t even believe I heard the words. “You showed up at my house.” I repeat the words to him again, shock still in me.

He nods his head. “I got up that Sunday, and I was irritated that you didn’t call me.” He winks at me. “Since I rocked your world.”

“Obviously.” I roll my eyes, and he laughs.

He shrugs. “I just wanted to ask you why you didn’t call.”

I look down at my belly, putting my hand on it. “Julia said I would look desperate if I called you the same day.” He groans out. The feeling of disappointment comes back to me, just like that day when she said I shouldn’t call him. I just wanted to talk to him and hear his voice. “I should have called,” I admit to him softly.

He reaches over and brings my face to his for a kiss. “How about from now on, we don’t listen to your sister or my sister?” He chuckles.

“Or your cousin,” I add in, and he just nods, going back to his seat. I look over at him and change the subject. “What do you feel like eating?”

“You,” he says, grabbing my hand from my lap and bringing it to his lips, my stomach feeling flutters again. Every single time he touches me, it’s like the first time. It gets my heart going, and my body becomes alive.

I look back at him and then the list. “Pussy is not on the list.” I smirk at him as he looks at me, smiling. “Sadly, neither is cock.” I wink at him.

“Are you sure?” he jokes with me and pretends to scroll the list.

“Nope, nothing.” I shrug. “I even checked under the dessert, and it’s not there.” He laughs out loud, looking over at me.

“So, what does that leave us with?” he asks as we make our way over to his place.

“This would go a lot faster if you just tell me what you want to eat,” I say, and we toss an idea out, and by the time we park in his parking spot, the food is already on its way to us.

He gets out of the SUV, and I follow him meeting him in the back where the trunk is. He grabs his luggage, shutting the trunk and then looking at me. “Give me a kiss.”

“I mean, when you ask like that,” I say, walking to him and leaning my head back. His kiss is soft and quick, his hand grabbing mine as we make our way up to his place.

He unlocks the door, and just like the last time, I’m blown away. “I swear my whole apartment fits in your living room,” I say, looking around. “I don’t think I could ever get used to living here.”

“Good,” he says, pulling my hand toward the bedroom, and if I thought I couldn’t get over the living room, I stop in my tracks at the bedroom.

“Holy moly,” I gasp, looking around. The whole back wall looks like the headboard, the bed facing a fireplace with a television on top. I shake my head. “Where is your bathroom?” I ask him, folding my hand over my chest, and he just smirks and points at the door on the right-hand side. I walk forward, looking over my shoulder at him before walking over and opening the door and stopping in my tracks. “Shut the fuck up,” I say, shaking my head and walking into the bathroom. “This is the size of three of my apartments.” I go to stand in the middle of the marble bathroom right under a crystal chandelier. The shower is all glass and the size of my whole bathroom. I throw my head back when I think of how he had to get into my tub/shower and duck to get in.

“This is a bit bigger than normal,” he says, and I turn to look at him. He leans against the doorjamb.

“How crammed did you feel in my shower?” I ask him, and he shakes his head smiling, not bothering to answer. “Be honest.” The doorbell interrupts him. “Saved by the bell,” I say, walking out of the bathroom.

He stops at the door on the way to the kitchen, grabbing the bag of food. I can not for the life of me get comfy in this house. I walk behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen, sitting at the big white counter. “Sit,” he says, pointing at the chair.

He hands me my burger and fries, and I watch him open his, taking a bite and then getting up to go to the big double-door stainless-steel fridge. He grabs two bottles of water and comes back. “Thank you,” I say, grabbing a bottle, taking a bite of my burger. “This is good.”


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