Titus – The Hawthornes (The Aces’ Sons #12) Read Online Nicole Jacquelyn

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: The Aces' Sons Series by Nicole Jacquelyn
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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“Blankie,” Ariel said, a little quieter. She picked her blankie up from the couch. That was new. She’d always had a blankie, and she wanted it when she was sleeping—but after the situation with Caleb’s father, she carried it everywhere. Titus thought it was because it smelled like me. Like home. She’d also started sucking her thumb again.

We rounded up the girls’ things and I helped Heather bring them out to the car. She kept up a running commentary about all the things they were going to do and what she planned for lunch and snacks, keeping them occupied and engaged while we loaded them into the car. I was pretty sure it was the only reason Ariel hadn’t changed her mind before they left.

“Call if you need me to come get them,” I called out as Heather climbed into the driver’s seat. “Or anything else.” We both knew that anything else meant Ariel having a major freak out because I wasn’t there.

“They’ll be great,” Heather assured me. “But, I will.”

I waved as they backed out of the driveway and then hurried back into the house, but once I was there, I wasn’t sure why I’d hurried. I had nothing to do. I’d never realized how quiet it was when no one else was home. I ambled into the kitchen, but I’d already cleaned up from breakfast and the place was sparkling clean.

It was the first time that I didn’t have the girls with me since… Ariel was born. I’d gone to the store without them when we’d lived with Esther, but I’d never been home without them.

I didn’t like it. At all.

“Shit,” I muttered. I looked around the room and snorted. “Shit. Fuck. Bullshit. Dammit. Asshole.” I laughed at myself. I understood why Esther had started swearing. It felt kind of good. I wasn’t planning on doing it around anyone else, but I had the house to myself.

“Motherfucker,” I breathed, unable to hold back a smile.

I headed toward the stairs, still grinning. “Motherfucker. Piece of shit.”

Since I didn’t have the girls with me, I pulled one of our bags out of the closet and started packing my hospital bag. The girls had gone full term, but each baby was different and we were getting close to the finish line. I could only imagine how Ariel would panic if I started packing an overnight bag in front of her, implying that I’d be going somewhere overnight without her, so I hadn’t even attempted it. I was still muttering swear words under my breath when a door slammed downstairs, followed by Titus calling my name.

“I’m upstairs,” I yelled back.

When he found me, I was staring at the items I’d laid out on the bed. A nightgown, a change of clothes, a package of pads, yarn, and a crochet hook. That was it. That was all I could think of. What did you need when you went to a hospital to give birth? I’d always been home with all of my things available if I needed them.

“Hey, sugar,” Titus said, coming to a stop in the doorway.

“What are you doing home?” I asked in exasperation, smiling at him over my shoulder. “You said you needed to be there today.”

“I was there for the meetin’,” he conceded, reaching up to grab the top of the doorway. “All done now.”

A little sliver of skin between his jeans and the bottom of his sweatshirt and cut came into view. I swallowed.

“The girls went with your mom today,” I murmured, my gaze darting back to his face.

“I know.” He grinned, dropping his arms as he stepped into the room. “She texted me.”

“Ah,” I murmured in understanding as he got closer. I dropped the socks I was holding onto the bed.

“Baby,” he rasped. “We can just hang out. You know that.”

“Uh-huh.”

His eyes were dark on me, his jaw tense.

“But I’d really like if we could do that naked,” he added.

I let out a huff of surprised laughter and then he was there, his hands on my face, and my laughter was silenced with his mouth.

Titus could kiss. I had very little experience, and I still knew he was a master. He tilted my head so he could press deeper into my mouth and I whimpered, my hands shooting out to grip the leather of his vest.

We’d been waiting so long. Over six years since the last time, when we’d been so young that it had been all fumbling hands and whispers in the dark backseat of his car. This was different. So different, that there was no comparison between the two.

Back then, sex between us had been the glimpse of the life I wanted. A silent rebellion.

Now it was sensation. Light. A promise.

My cheeks blushed beet red when Titus pulled my shirt over my head.

“Fuck,” he breathed, staring at me. He reached out to run a finger along the edge of my bra and my nipples tightened as I swayed toward him. There had been times since I told him I loved him that he would walk up behind me in the kitchen, surreptitiously sliding his hand into my shirt to slide it along my belly and breasts, but that was affection.


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