The Architect (Nashville Neighborhood #3) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Nashville Neighborhood Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
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“Do you like them?”

Of course I liked them. They retailed in the high three figures. “They’re beautiful.” I looked at the printing inside the heel. “And they’re my size.”

“I’ve taken your shoes off a few times.” His smile was devious. “I guess you were too distracted to notice I looked at the size. Try them on.”

Was he crazy? “I can’t.”

His confident look hung awkwardly. “Why not?”

“Because if I put them on, they might not ever come off and I can’t accept these.”

He made a noise like I was talking nonsense and sat beside me, plucking one of the shoes out of the box in my lap.

“Yes, you can, Lilith. I like making you happy, and seeing you wear these will make me happy.” He pulled the stuffing out of the toe of the shoe and unfastened the tiny buckle at the ankle strap. “If it helps, I got a nice bonus from my firm for all the travel I’ve had to do on this project.”

“Clay,” I repeated in the same tone from before.

His voice deepened and filled with sex. “Think about how good you’ll look in these and nothing else.”

Damn him. I didn’t put up a fight as he moved off the couch and down on a knee to take off the pumps I was wearing. I sat as Cinderella while he slipped on the shoe and evaluated how it looked. “Does it fit?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good.”

He looked so pleased, and I knew I was doomed. The shoes were too much. Way, way too much and yet I knew I wasn’t going to refuse them. When he had the other one on and fastened around my ankle, he stood and pulled me up with him.

The sexy heels fit perfectly, and as I looked down at them, I went dizzy with emotions, so I was grateful when his hands closed on my waist to steady me.

“Will you wear them tonight to dinner?”

“For our date?”

He hadn’t expected that response, and his tone was cautious. “Do you want it to be a date?”

My heart rose in my chest, making it difficult to breathe, but I was tired of pretending my feelings didn’t exist. “Yes,” I admitted. “I know you said you don’t date, but . . . Is that okay? This feels like a date and I’m excited about that.”

His mouth fell open and he looked like he had no idea what to say.

In his silence, I shifted my weight on my feet. “We need to tell Travis though. Just so he’s aware.”

I didn’t understand the mix of emotions that played out on his face. Was he happy about what I’d said? Or terrified? His hands abandoned my waist as he stepped back and adjusted his glasses. “There’s no need to tell him. Travis is meeting us at the restaurant.”

“Oh.” All the air went out of my lungs. If we were having dinner together, why hadn’t we discussed it in the group chat? My gaze left him and floated over to the lid of the shoebox.

Okay, well, that made sense. He hadn’t included Travis because Clay wanted to give me this gift in private. It probably would have made the other man uncomfortable, or worse. It might make Travis feel like he needed to make a similar gesture, and I hoped to avoid that. I didn’t want expensive gifts like I was some kind of kept woman.

Clay put his hands in his pockets, trying to act casual, but then took them out. He looked nervous, and his voice was uneven. “Do you want me to cancel with him? Because I can, it’s just—”

“No, it’s fine.” I pressed out a smile that was probably too bright to cover my awkwardness. Plus, it was fine. Better than fine—it was great. It’d be the first time the three of us would go out, and I could pretend it was a date for all of us. “Maybe some other time, you and I could—”

“Yes.”

My heart skipped at his sure, confident word.

He stared at me, wordlessly saying he wanted what I wanted, and my knees softened when he surged forward. His mouth was on me the same instant his hands were on my body, and it happened so quickly, I gasped.

His kiss. Oh, my God, his fucking kiss.

It was the kind they wrote love songs about. The one at the end of a movie when the lovers finally got together. His lips pressed to mine like he would have died if we’d been separated a moment longer, and I sank into him. His kiss was hungry and consuming and powerful.

I was sure he’d planned to kiss me after giving his gift. It’d probably been designed to happen after I’d thanked him, which I’d gotten sidetracked from and hadn’t actually done yet. But this kiss? No way he’d planned it.

It felt unleashed. Wild. Passion poured from him like wine spilling from a bottle that’d been knocked over.


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