Pucks and Books (Knoxville Bears #1) Read Online Toni Aleo

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Knoxville Bears Series by Toni Aleo
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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I nod slowly, leaning into her, and when our bodies touch, she gasps as a groan leaves my lips. I don’t grab her, though. I grip the ladder, holding it tightly below where she’s clutching it as I gaze into her sweet eyes. “Then let me swim the expanse of this ocean and tell you.” Another gasp leaves her lips, and I lean closer. “Let me take you out.”

I can practically feel her heart slamming into her ribs as I get lost in her gaze. “Okay.”

I fight back my grin. I haven’t won. Yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet.”

I nod, and then I smile. “I understand, but know this, Louisa,” I say, moving closer so that my lips graze her ear. “I’ll have your mouth on mine by the end of this day, and when I’m done with those lips, your other lips will be next.”

I’m rewarded by a small moan that has me tight all over. As I move away, watching her watch me, I see her eyes are wild, her face crimson. She’s breathing hard, making it really difficult for me to think straight with the rise and fall of her breasts. I take her in, and I’m so thankful I came in here.

Because I think Louisa is a risk that is worth the reward.

CHAPTER 22

Louisa

I’d be an idiot to assume that Ciaran’s statement isn’t a promise.

A promise I’m damn sure he intends on keeping.

I have to resist, I have to stay strong, but damn if I don’t want to. My horny ass wants everything he promises, but I refuse to be used and discarded at his leisure. If he wants me, he’s going to work for it, no matter how badly I want to just fall face first between his legs and willingly choke on his cock. I hate to admit it, but he hurt me, and I have to remember that. I can’t allow him to seduce me without my questions being answered.

Ciaran made me question myself, and I can’t let that slide.

No matter how badly I want him.

I sit across from him at the coffee shop down the road. His predatory gaze has my body tingling and heat gathering between my legs in no time. I cross my legs tightly, squeezing my thighs together as we sit in silence. We ordered our drinks, a mocha latte for him and a lotus tea for me. He also ordered us muffins, but I refused to react to the smile he shot me when the lady handed him the white bag. It sits on the table between us, a reminder of how things started with us.

Damn muffins.

I wring my hands, squeezing my fingers tightly as I watch him stir his latte. When he places the spoon on the table, I look up to meet his gaze. Even dressed as if he could command a boardroom full of important people, he seems unsure of himself. Ciaran is nervous, and I don’t like how that makes me feel. I want to comfort him, ease his concerns. In doing so, though, I would be accepting his behavior, and that’s not happening. I have been shit on my whole life, and it took me a long time to realize my value. I will not let my sense of worth falter ever again.

Ciaran blows out a breath after taking a sip of his latte. I’m unsure if it’s from the temperature of the drink or his nerves, but I don’t say anything. I don’t touch my drink or even reach for the muffin I wouldn’t mind eating right now. Resisting my need for Ciaran is making me really hungry. More so for him than the muffin, but I’d take the muffin to curb my appetite. I feel in doing so, though, it would be as if I’m waving a white flag, excusing how he made me feel, and I have to stand strong.

When, really, I don’t want to be strong. I want to wrap myself in his arms and just bask in the comfort he can provide me. I want to give him my body, let him draw the pleasure out of me, and hold me so close I can feel his heartbeat. I yearn to touch his lips with my own, to drown myself in his toe-curling kisses.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ciaran’s question catches me off guard, and I look away. “Nothing.”

He smirks, and I swear he knows I am thinking all kinds of naughty things. How he knows this is beyond me, but I don’t react when he says, “So adorable when you lie.”

“How do you know I’m lying?” I challenge, and I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had just kept my mouth shut, because in an instant, a wicked grin moves over those thick lips, and I find myself squeezing my thighs tighter.


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