Scorch – Smoke Series Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Mafia, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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His deep chuckle vibrated against my neck. “I’ll try.”

Why did I not believe him?

“Now more than before, I really need you to choose what I wear. This is overwhelming,” I told him.

He walked past me and went to the cocktail dresses. He didn’t look through them, but pulled out one, as if he knew exactly what he wanted me to wear. The strapless white dress shimmered under the light, as if silver had been weaved into the fabric. He walked to the center of the room and hung it on a gold stand that stood beside the mirror.

I watched as he then made his way to the shoes and scanned them before picking up a silver pair that looked like they tied around my ankles. He set them down beneath the dress, then went to open a drawer and began taking out a pair of silver satin panties and a strapless bra that made the corner of my mouth quirk in amusement. He turned to me and held it up, then winked before taking them and placing them on the pink lounge-type sofa thingy—I still didn’t know what it was called.

“Your jewelry is there.” He motioned toward the glass case. “I’ll let you enjoy getting to choose what you’d like to wear from it.”

I stared at the daunting case. “Is it real?” I asked him.

“Depends. If I tell you yes, will you wear it?” he asked.

I swung my gaze back to him, and he was biting back a smile.

“So, it’s real. Like, not just the gold and silver, but those shiny stones aren’t rhinestones or crystal.”

He laughed then and rubbed his bearded chin. “No, pretty baby. I would never buy you costume jewelry. I want to see you iced in diamonds and other precious stones.”

When he put it like that … okay. Me too.

“Maybe … just don’t let me know how much what I choose cost. I’ll have a panic attack over the thought of something falling off or getting lost.”

Garrett crossed the room casually with his gaze never leaving mine. When he stopped in front of me, he leaned down to my ear. “If you lose something, I’ll buy you a replacement.”

“That’s not the point,” I replied, shivering from the warmth of his breath on my neck.

“Get dressed, Fawn, before I fuck you again.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t see that as a threat. But then I also knew we had to get going because I didn’t want Gypsi at home alone too late. She had decided to work the evening shift when she found out she’d have the car tonight. I was worried about her getting home and walking into the camper alone.

Sex would have to wait.

Twenty-One

Fawn

I should have expected a date with Garrett was going to be anything but normal. The helicopter ride to St. Augustine was a treat I hadn’t expected. When we arrived at an exclusive resort, the security gate opened the moment the limo pulled up. A man in a black suit tipped his head in greeting to us as we drove through the big iron gate.

Stepping out of the limo and walking into the hotel, I felt as if I belonged on Garrett’s arm. I had chosen diamonds because the hint of silver shimmer to the white dress seemed to call for the clear stone. I touched the necklace that I could feel lying flat on my chest to make sure it was still there.

Garrett tucked my hand into the crook of his arm and led me through the luxurious lobby and toward a set of elevators, where two men stood in suits, like the one outside at the gate had been wearing.

“Good evening, Mr. Hughes,” the larger of the two men said. His neck was muscular. He appeared to be made of muscle. A lot of it. Even his suit couldn’t camouflage it.

“Hyce,” he said in greeting.

“It’s been prepared,” the man named Hyce replied.

The doors to the elevator opened, and Garrett led me into it. I felt my heartbeat quicken as the elevator began to rise. There were no buttons or numbers to press, yet it knew where it was going.

“How do guests use this elevator with no buttons?” I asked curiously.

“They don’t. It’s mine.”

“The elevator is yours?”

He nodded. “Yes. So is the resort.”

“Another hotel,” I said, no longer surprised. “Where does this lead?”

He glanced down at me. “To my private floor. We need to stop there before we head to the ballroom, where the gala is we are attending.”

Gala? We were going to a gala? I’d never been to one. I wasn’t sure what that actually meant. Just a big cocktail party with a fancy name perhaps?

“So … would you think I was a complete idiot if I asked what a gala is exactly?”

The corners of his lips lifted. “Nothing would ever make me think you were an idiot. A gala can be held for many reasons. Most are to raise funds for charities. They are formal events typically. This one is being held to raise funds for the children’s hospital. I host it every year here and must make an appearance.”


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