Sweet & Rich (Sweet Water #2) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Sweet Water Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
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“You’re not a Reaper, are you?” I asked, suddenly curious if he’d come with the gaggle of friends Echo had brought with her.

“I don’t play hockey,” he said. “But I can’t guarantee I won’t steal your soul, if that’s what you’re asking.”

A laugh tore through my lips, a warm shiver of delight spiraling down the middle of me at his words. At the way his presence ate up every inch of this roof even though we had miles of open sky above us. How he was somehow shaking things awake inside me that had been perfectly content sleeping before.

“Do I look that innocent?” I asked, fully committing to the little flirtation we had going.

He moved a little closer, and my heart fluttered in my chest. “Absolutely,” he said. “Innocent, reserved, rule-follower. Sexy as sin, but an innocent little kitten through and through.”

I parted my lips, a little flush of anger slicing through me even though he wasn’t wrong. And damn it, I was so tired of being the things he said I was. I had been for a while, the agony of the box I’d been living in growing bigger every day.

For once, couldn’t I play the part of the wild, reckless, temptress?

I could, couldn’t I? I mean, that’s why we were here. That’s why we were hiding our identities, right? It was healthy to explore fantasies and take risks every once and a while, and I’d never done that even when I constantly advised patients to do that all the time in a safe way.

So, why not take some of my own advice?

Confidence and anticipation stormed through me.

“You’ve got me all wrong, Silver,” I said, reaching out and trailing a finger down his mask, shocked to find it was metal and cool to the touch instead of a flimsy plastic.

“Do I?” he asked, not drawing away from my touch. “Because something tells me one night with me and I’d ruin a perfect little thing like you.”

“Who says I’m going to spend the night with you?” I asked, pulse thrumming in my veins. Excitement flared across every inch of my body.

“You did,” he said, gliding that gloved hand over my bare shoulder.

I did my best not to purr at the touch.

What was it about not knowing a thing about this stranger—down to what color of eyes he had—that made the moment so damn sexy? Even the gloves felt forbidden against my skin, causing desire to pulse in my core in a needy little heartbeat.

What had gotten into me? Where had all my reasoning and logic gone?

I must’ve left them back at the bar, because I found myself asking, “When did I tell you that?”

His hand found my hip, and I let him touch me there, let him draw me closer until our bodies were flush. “The second you stepped onto this roof with me.”

THE END

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