Wrong (#1) Read Online Free Book L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Wrong Series by L.P. Lovell
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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I imagine what she would look like on her knees, with those fucking lips wrapped around my cock, my hand fisted in her hair while I fuck her face until she gags. I’m frantic at this point. My hand is loudly slapping against my lower stomach. The fact that she’s completely unaware that I am beating my shit like it owes me money makes me even more frantic.

I barely hear her talking in her sleep. “Jude,” she whispers, followed by a soft, feminine, incredibly sexy moan. And that’s it; I feel my balls tighten and my entire body tenses like a coiled spring. I go off like fucking Mount Vesuvius. It’s been awhile since I’ve been teased like this, which means shit goes every-fucking-where. Holy shit! My body tenses and jerks with aftershocks, my head slamming against the wall as I try to catch my breath.

“Jude…” she mumbles, which snaps me out of my fog. “Please…” Her voice trails off and I can barely make out her begging, and not the good kind of begging.

I grab a towel and wipe myself off. She mumbles my name again and whimpers. I step back into the room, and climb across the bed, brushing her hair from her face as I lay down next to her. She quiets and turns into my neck.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m getting into here. I just have this unexplainable urge to fix her, which is fucking ironic, because I’m usually the one to fuck shit up. It’s unnatural for me to care, and I have no idea how to handle it.

I close my eyes, my mind racing. I glance at the clock and minutes fade to hours. Every damn time I close my eyes I see my mom and sister; I hear the screams, my mother begging Joe to not hurt my sister, to let her go. I see Tor crying and bleeding, Euan pleading for his life. For the first time in my life I allow myself to realize that I am the monster in other people’s nightmares just like Joe is the monster in mine. I have brutally taken the lives of people, leaving their families with nothing but a fading memory. The people I kill know damn well what they’re getting into when they decide not to pay me my money, but their families...that gaping wound ripped into their souls from that loss...that affects me. Since when have I had pieces of me that give a fucking damn? I don’t want to give a damn, but Tor fucking makes me. Her being here has chipped away at me, caused me to re-evaluate everything. I roll onto my side, and instead of an empty space, there she is. She’s like a physical fucking conscience that I can’t ignore. I stare at her silhouette and my mind comes to a gridlock. This woman has changed everything in my life. In a matter of weeks she has created a fucking war inside me. She makes me question who the fuck I am.

I trace my fingertip over her arm. She’s something I’m not used to, something that almost doesn’t seem real. She is light in this pit of blackness. She’s an angel surrendering to the unforgiving flames of hell, and in no way is that right.

She sighs and tosses in her sleep. She is so much more than what she’s been reduced to. She’s in my bed because she’s afraid to be anywhere else; really, because she has nowhere else to go. She’s been given freedom, but she’s chosen to remain captive. She’s that wounded that a heartless bastard like myself seems like a haven. I draw in a heavy breath, the scent of her drowning me.

I am all she has.

Having one person, that’s a shitty destiny.

I will keep her safe, and I will fucking slaughter Joe. For my mother, for my sister, for Tor. Right or wrong, I don’t fucking care.

Oh, my fucking God. What the hell happened last night? My head feels like somebody just smashed it into a wall. I groan as I roll over, and my stomach follows suit. Ugh, my mouth feels like a badger took a shit in it. I try to open my eyes, but I can’t. Holy shit, I think I’m actually blind! Maybe I’ve had a stroke. Oh, God. Why is the bed moving? Wait, that’s not the bed. I rub at my eyes and blink. My vision is blurry, but I seem to have an in-depth knowledge of Jude’s chest now, and I know that’s exactly what is moving beneath me.

I manage to pull away from him without yesterday’s limpet display. I groan when I stand up, swaying slightly. I feel gross. I can practically smell the tequila seeping from my pores. Ugh, tequila. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn.


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