This Is Love Read online Natasha Madison (This is #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: This Is Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
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“Is that so?” I smile and bite her lower lip and then slide my tongue into her mouth. “What part exactly?” I want to pick her up and fuck her right here against my railing. “Was it my tongue?” I twirl my tongue with hers. “My fingers?” My hands grab her hips and press her to me. “Or was it my cock?”

“All three,” she says, grinding her pussy into me. “Not in any particular order.” I throw my head back and laugh at this.

“I mean, I’m not going to be greedy and point out one, so I’ll take them all.” She smiles at me. “But I do have to get going.”

“I made dinner,” I tell her. “Stay for dinner.”

“Well …” She looks to the side and then at me. “I guess I should make you feed me since I lost all my energy.”

“Then after, I can show you how I eat dessert.” I wink at her, and she pushes me away from her. “Where do you want to eat?”

“I’m all flustered now. Are we talking about food or private parts?” she jokes with me. “Let’s eat inside. It’s getting just a touch windy, and well, my lady town is all open.”

“Lady town? Is that what we’re calling it?” I turn and walk back inside with her following me.

“Well, Disneyland is taken, so lady town it is.” She winks at me. “What can I do to help?”

“Not much. It’ll be ready in about ten minutes. We can go sit on the couch until then,” I tell her, and then I hear my phone ringing, the sound echoing in the house. I have the phone set up to my intercom system, so I can answer in any room. I walk over to the wall and press the button. “Hello?”

“Markos.” I hear my father’s voice and then look over at Vivienne who just smiles, and her eyes light up.

“Hey, Dad,” I tell him. “I’m in the middle of something. Is everything okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay. I was just checking in. I haven’t heard from you today,” he says, and I know that right after he hangs up with me, he is going to call my brother.

“I’ll call you in a little while,” I tell him, and then I tell him I love you in Greek.

“Markos?” Vivienne says as soon as I hang up.

“It’s my full name. The only one who uses it is my father. Or my mother when she’s really pissed at me,” I tell her, leaning against the counter and looking at her.

“I like it.” She comes to me. “A lot.”

“Do you?” I push her hair behind her ears and rub her cheek with my thumb. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me.”

“Well,” she says. “I know that from now on, I’m calling you Markos.”

“Why?” I tilt my head to the side.

“Because it’s original, and it’s your name.” She then gets really close. “And because it sounds hot.” And right before I’m about to pick her up and place her ass on the counter, the oven beeps. She claps her hands together. “Dinnertime.”

I walk over to the oven, grabbing the mitts and taking the two aluminum trays out of the oven. “I hope you are good with grilled salmon.”

“I am,” she says, opening the cabinets to get plates. After her third try, she finally grabs two plates and comes over. “It smells divine.” She places the plate down, and I fix her plate with the salmon, quinoa, and vegetables.

“You grab the plates, and I’ll get something to drink,” I tell her. “Wine?”

“Yes, please. White, if you have it,” she says, grabbing both plates, “but red is okay also.” She walks through the doorway to the dining room, and I grab the chilled bottle of white wine and bring it with me along with two water bottles. Placing the items on the table, I walk over to the china cabinet in the corner grabbing a glass for her wine.

She sits down to the right of the head of the table, and I have to say, having her here in my space means everything. Now I have to just keep her here. I uncork her wine and pour some into her glass. She waits for me to sit down and then picks up her glass. “Santé.” Health, she says in French.

“Santé,” I repeat, grabbing my bottle of water.

She takes a sip of wine and then grabs her fork. “This is really good,” she says after she takes her first bite. “So you speak Greek?”

I nod. “Not as much as I did when I was in Greek school.”

“You went to Greek school?” She smiles. “Talking during sex just got moved up a notch.”

“Is that so?” I ask her. “I could be saying anything, and you wouldn’t know.”

“That’s the whole intrigue. It’s mysterious,” she says.


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