Three Strikes and You’re Mine Read Online R.S. Grey

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Forbidden, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
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I thread my fingers through his hair as he tears his lips away from mine and bends down to capture the tip of my breast through the fabric of my blouse. With my bra pushed down, it’s just that silky material separating his lips from my skin. Everything feels overly sensitive. As he closes his mouth and sucks, I fist my hand in his hair and slam my eyes shut. His tongue swirls over the peak and I shiver, arching my back as hot pleasure courses through me.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

Is this pure unadulterated lust?

It’s heady and hard to wrap my head around. He pays my breasts equal attention, and then with unabashed urgency, his mouth collides with mine again. I’m as much supported by him as I am by the table. My legs wrap around his hips and his hands come around my thighs to hoist me up.

Oh god.

Every ounce of feminism leaves my body in a great big poof.

The height difference is divine. The way he can pick me up like this, like I’m just a barnacle along for the ride…it should not turn me on this much, but it does. His hands are dangerously close to the apex of my thighs. His fingers dig into my jeans.

Let’s do it. Let’s tear each other’s clothes off and get on with it. I need to know what it feels like to have him press inside me, to stretch and fill and sate this need—

The sound of footsteps suddenly stops us in our tracks.

We’re flying apart, breathing hard, avoiding eye contact, all in three seconds flat. I press the back of my hand to my lips to further conceal the evidence then watch in horror as Luke’s attention shifts toward the back porch.

The noise was outside, I realize, just as I turn to see Ned and his cat standing together on the other side of the glass door. His eyes are as round as saucers and his mouth bobs open and closed like a guppy’s. His hand belatedly flies up to cover his eyes, but it’s too little too late.

He waves his dinner plate in the air. “Was just coming back for seconds! Forget I was even here.” He hurries off the porch, calling his cat after him.

I would laugh if not for the fact that I’m holding my breath, waiting to see Luke’s reaction.

We just lost ourselves in a way that could have been extremely dangerous. Had that been Harper instead of Ned, this would be an entirely different situation.

Luke’s back is to me as he brings his hand up to rub his neck. It’s red there, from where my nails were biting into his skin. His hair is tousled and in a state of disarray that would have completely given us away even if Ned hadn’t had a front-row view of our foreplay session.

Slowly, Luke turns to face me.

I’m relieved there’s no anger there, or worse…remorse. He looks slightly confused, a little amused, and still—I look down at his pants—turned on.

My cheeks flood with color just as he speaks.

“So that was a good example of what I’m trying to avoid,” he quips.

I clear my throat and prop my hands on my hips. Never mind that my bra is totally askew underneath my blouse or that my lips are bee-stung. I can only imagine what my hair is doing, and I have no doubt my pupils are totally blown out. I’m trudging forward as if everything is hunky-dory.

I have the voice of a staunch academic when I reply, “I see. That was a very good demonstration of what not to do. I was slightly confused before, but now you’ve really cleared it up for me. Avoid kitchen table make-outs.” I make a little check mark in the air. “Noted.”

He sighs and walks over, dropping his hand to my waist and turning me toward the stairs.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to. It’s a long way,” I say, picking up the thread of the bit.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t ensure your safety on a dark night like this?”

“No gentleman at all.”

We make it to the stairs, and he motions for me to go first.

“Think I can swing a second date?” he asks.

“Was that a first date?”

“Oh, did I not make that clear?”

“I tell you what—you give me a call tomorrow, and I’ll see what my calendar looks like. I’m very busy this time of year, but I might be able to squeeze you in.” I throw a wink over my shoulder as we reach the second-floor landing.

We make it to my room, and I open the door and stroll in. Luke, however, stays put out in the hallway.

“What are you, a vampire? Can’t take a step past the threshold unless I explicitly invite you in?”


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