The Godparent Trap Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
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As I moved to pin her arms above her head, she evaded my grasp and dropped her hands. She brushed the pad of her thumb over my tip, and I nearly died.

I quickly reached for the nightstand and grabbed a condom. Her small hands continued exploring my length.

I growled, “Any more, and this is going to be over with before we start.”

She gave a long-suffering sigh and licked her lips. “Next time, then.”

“God, are you trying to kill me?”

“Yes.”

“Why am I not surprised?” I laughed, moving her hands away so I could roll the condom down.

I grasped her knees and pushed them apart, crawling up her body. Her eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy as I nudged her entrance.

“Please don’t be a tease in bed, please don’t be a tease in bed,” she muttered to herself.

“A little patience is good for you, Colby.” Where was my renowned self-control now? It had abandoned me, and I was being driven by something feral, some primal instinct that beat, Take her in time with my heart’s rhythm.

Everything about this moment felt like it had been ordained, and I had no idea why it felt so right, just that it did.

That she did.

“Rip!” She gritted her teeth, hooking her ankles behind me. My body loomed over hers, and I surrendered everything as I thrust into her. She threw back her head, lips parted.

It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.

Colby completely surrendering to me.

Trusting me.

I kissed the side of her throat, tasting her skin as she matched my rhythm, her body moving like it was made for me.

My muscles flexed taut as I tried to hold on, but every time I tried to rein myself in, she drew her nails down my back, or made a little mewling noise that was so fucking adorable I couldn’t focus.

“Should have”—she groaned—“done this weeks ago.”

“Months,” I agreed. “Years.”

“Yes!”

I molded her to me, willing the sensation of filling her to last, but I could tell I was already close, and she was almost there as I pumped one last time and felt her release around me.

My mouth covered hers in a soft kiss, and she cupped my face as the aftershocks of what we’d just done thrummed between us. I didn’t want to pull out of her. I wanted to stay connected.

The most connected I’d ever been with another person in my entire life, and it was someone who used to call me Satan.

Someone I used to call immature and lazy.

Now all I could think about was that I had almost missed this.

“I know,” she whispered.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yeah.” Colby’s bright eyes met mine. “I’m glad we didn’t miss this too, Rip.”

Our hands clasped and Colby squeezed tight. “What do you see now?”

I stared at our united hands and whispered, “The best damn trap I’ve ever been in, where my sneaky sister knew what she was doing, along with my best friend. A trap that’s not really a trap but a dream. One I’ve wanted to be stuck in my entire life.”

“Godparent traps are forever, you know… legally binding and all that,” she teased.

“Good.” I kissed her again, and again, then repeated, “Good.”

TWENTY

Colby

I’d just had sex with Rip.

Sex.

And the first thought that came to my head was damn it, I wished Monica was still alive because she would be the first person I’d call.

And she’d always known I had a major crush on her brother. She’d made fun of me but always encouraged me, like she knew that we were perfect for each other. I swiped a tear from my cheek as I remembered our last serious conversation about Rip.

“He needs someone like you. Just don’t give up,” she said, sipping her wine in the living room while the kids ran around screaming as Brooks played hide-and-seek with them.

I frowned. “He needs perfection.”

“Nah.” She patted my hand. “Girl, he needs a big giant mess that shows him how messy love can really be. He needs sinks to fix. Snotty noses to wipe. He needs the simplest moments in life that would normally pass him by if he stayed inside the box he’s made for himself. He needs you.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked away. “He won’t ever see me as his perfect mess.”

“Who ever said perfect was part of it?” She clinked her glass against mine.

“Besides, he thinks perfect means control when it means the opposite. I’m pretty confident you can remind him of that, and one day he won’t be able to help himself.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, OK.”

A knock sounded at the door, and then Rip was walking in, holding a bottle of wine and saying hi to Brooks.

Rip’s eyes roamed the room and landed on me. His jaw clenched.

“Remember this if you remember nothing else…,” Monica whispered. “That’s not anger I see on my brother’s face.”


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