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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I’m about to answer her when Matthew gets to our table. “You’ve been here since eleven,” he says and looks at the two bottles face down. I look at him and then at Mark, and I don’t know what to do.

“Matthew,” Karrie says to him, and he looks at her. “Why don’t you eat chocolate off my …” she says, pointing down at her vagina, and I have to put a hand in front of my mouth to stop the laughter and so does Mark. “Do you not like my vagina?”

“Oh, good God,” Matthew says, looking at me. “You,” he says, “stop telling her about all your sex.”

“Matthew, it’s not my fault you aren’t satisfying your woman.” I mock him. “Have you spoken to the doctor?”

“About what?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips.

“Karrie said the most you can go is three times.” I look down. “She’s in her prime. If you can’t, you know, you should at least give her the vibrators back.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” he says, now looking up and then at Mark. “We have sex a lot.”

Mark just puts his hands up, not saying anything, because Karrie starts talking. “Matthew, I’m going to be filthy in the car.”

“Are you going to barf?” he says to her.

“No, not that filthy,” she says, getting up and then falling back down, but Matthew catches her. “I mean, I’m going to tell you all the ways we are going to do butt play.”

“Ass play,” I correct her, and then Matthew looks over at Mark.

“Do you think you can take that one home while I get this one in the truck?” He motions to Karrie, who is licking his neck like a dog.

“Oh, you trust me with Mark?” I ask him, knowing he doesn’t let any of the guys next to me.

“He’s not going to fall for your spell,” Matthew says, and I just roll my lips. “Stop licking me,” he tells Karrie, who now is licking his lips.

“Lick my tongue,” she tells him. “Let’s go to the car and have sex,” she says to him not quietly.

“She is going to be sleeping by the time I walk around the truck,” he says, putting a hand around her waist.

“We are going to have butt sex,” she tells him. “Vivienne says I’m relaxed enough.”

“Please stop talking,” he tells her and carries her out, and then I look at Mark whose eyes are trained only on me.

“How are you feeling?” he asks me, and my eyes don’t leave his.

“Fine,” I tell him, trying not to sound like Karrie, but the giggle that I do after makes it hard. “Why?”

“Figured if you are giving Karrie advice about her ass …” he says and looks at me.

“I’m listening,” I tell him, squeezing my legs together.

“I’m going to pay the bill.” He looks around and motions for the bill from the waiter. “Then we are going to go home, and I’m going to work that ass,” he says. “Any objections?”

“I have an account here. It’s already paid,” I say, getting up and steadying myself, then winking at him. “Where are you parked?”

“Morning.” His voice is chipper when I walk into the kitchen. “You’re walking funny.” He looks over at me as he sits on his chair reading the newspaper. Who reads the newspaper anymore, anyway?

“Well, you would be walking funny, too, if you got fucked by a baseball bat,” I tell him and wince when I sit down.

“You were the one who begged for more,” he reminds me. “I’ll make you coffee.” He gets up. “Then I’ll run a bath for you.”

“It’s really annoying when I’m trying to be pissed at you, and you are all sweet and shit,” I point out to him. He shakes his head and makes me a coffee.

“It’s nice outside. Do you want to sit outside?” he asks, and I look out the window and see the sun’s out. He holds out his hand, and I take it, walking with him outside, and he’s right; it is nice. There is no wind, and the sun is shining. “Let’s sit on that couch.” He points at the couch on the other side, and I walk with him, wearing my robe he got me.

“It’s a really nice day,” I say, going to sit down, but he pulls me down on him instead. His arms go around my waist, and he buries his face in my neck, and he fits perfectly. “We should go for a walk,” I tell him, and he just hums. “In Central Park.”

“That sounds good,” he says, and then he turns to me. “Want to have a picnic there?”

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “That sounds like fun.” I finish my coffee, walking inside and heading to the bath while he orders us a picnic basket. “I have to go to my place and get some comfy clothes,” I tell him, starting the water and getting in.


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