Brogan (Carolina Reapers #9) Read Online Samantha Whiskey

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Carolina Reapers Series by Samantha Whiskey
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“I want to know what it is,” she said softly. “I need to know.” Something flashed in her eyes—a heartbeat of hope that eclipsed the panic.

“Okay.” My pulse skyrocketed. I was really about to do this. “I was out in LA a few weeks ago, and I stopped by my security deposit box. We’re not supposed to be out there again this year, and I wanted to have it here for when the timing was right.”

“The timing?” she whispered.

I nodded. “It’s my mother’s ring.” I fidgeted with the box, opening it a centimeter or two before letting it snap shut. “I had it sized. For you. It’s for you.”

“Oh, Brogan.” Her eyes shone.

“I know this is new between us, but Fiona…you’re it for me. I know it with every fiber of my being. I feel it every time we kiss, every time I touch you. I can’t imagine a single day of the rest of my life without you in it.” The words fell out of my mouth. “Whether it’s next week, next month, or next year, I want you to be my wife.” I turned the box toward her. “And I’ll get down on one knee, if that’s what you’re ready for—”

“No!” She closed the box before I could get it open.

I was going to be sick. Right here. Right now.

“I mean, not yet, not…no.” She covered my hand with hers and squeezed gently, blinking quickly.

“Okay.” Air filled my lungs and my heart started beating again. “Do you want to see it?” Fine, there was a slightly hopeful pitch to my voice.

“No!” She shook her head vehemently.

“Okay.” My fist closed around the box tightly.

“Shit, why isn’t anything coming out right?” She flinched, then took a couple of deep breaths. Good, at least one of us was processing oxygen. “I mean, yes, I want to see it. I’m sure it’s beautiful, Brogan. But I know that if I get even just a peek at what’s in that box, I’m going try it on, and then all logical thought will go flying out the window, and I just need some time, you know?”

Was that…fear in her eyes?

“I wasn't planning on proposing tonight. I just wanted to have it ready.”

“Because you’re organized.”

“Because I’m organized.” I nodded.

“But then I found it.” Her nose crinkled in apology.

“But then you found it.” I tucked the box into my pocket.

“Time is fine, Fiona. We have nothing but time.” It was the truth, and I’d never push her into something she didn’t want or wasn’t ready for. But damn, I hadn’t realized just how badly I’d wanted it until this very moment. How ready for this I was. How…slightly disappointed I was that she held onto the very logic I’d long since abandoned when it came to her.

I walked away and tucked the ring back into my sock drawer. It wasn’t like I needed to hide it anymore.

“Brogan?” she called my name softly.

“Hmm?” I shut the drawer and undid my belt as I came out of the closet.

She was leaned back against the bed—our bed, worrying that damn lower lip with her teeth again. “Would you have asked me tonight?” she whispered.

Drawn to her like a magnet, I crossed the floor to stand in front of her, close enough that the tips of her breasts rose against my chest with every breath she took. “If you’d wanted me to.”

“Really?” A slight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she looked at me with such wonder that my chest swelled.

“Really,” I assured her. “That’s how much I love you.”

Her fingertips traced my tattoos as she ran her hands up my body, her touch light, but possessive. It always felt so damn good when she touched me. “I love you, too.”

“I know.” I gave her a cocky grin. “Does that mean you want me to hit my knee—”

She halted my request with her mouth, kissing me hard. I knew what she was doing—ending the conversation—but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was a goner at the first touch of her lips. She opened for me, and I sank into her my tongue sliding along hers, the crisp taste of her filling my head with only one word: home.

This woman was my home.

We were a frenzy of hands and kisses as clothes hit the floor. She unsnapped her bra, and I filled my hands with her breasts, my cock rising at the sound of her moans as I pinched and teased her nipples.

I worshiped her with my mouth, then laid her out across our bed like a buffet once we were both naked. She was all hollows and curves, her skin flush with desire as she crooked her fingers at me, a devilish smile playing across her lips.

“You want me?” I teased, running my tongue from the top of her thigh to her breast, where I flicked her nipple with my tongue.



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