Made For You (Made For #2) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Made For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
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This morning, when I walked out on my deck, the last thing I expected was to see her walking out also. I inwardly cringed and then looked at Beatrice. “Don’t even think about it,” I mumbled to her while I watched Vivienne walk up her steps. “What the hell is she doing up so early?” I asked myself while I walked off my boat. My eyes were going to the sliding back door, waiting for her significant other to come out. There wasn’t even a light on in the boat. It was pitch black. I shook my head and walked away thinking, who would let their person be outside in the dark, alone? I tried not to think of it the whole time during the walk and I only brought it up once to Beatrice.

I even tried and forget the way I resisted the apple pie. Until I just said fuck it and cut a piece of it. I was already committed to hating it, just because. But the minute I put a piece in my mouth, I moaned out loud. It was so fucking good I ended up eating three pieces, which then made me even more pissed at myself for liking it. It made me pissy the whole night, and then when I woke up and went to make coffee, I literally had a piece of pie in the kitchen in my boxers. I figured if I finished the whole thing, I could get it out of the galley and be done with it.

I’m getting closer to her boat and I am about to walk past it when I see her on the side of the dock. Her phone is in her hand as she starts to type something. “What the hell are you doing?” comes out even before I can tell myself to mind my own business.

She looks over at me and I can tell from the look in her eye that something is wrong. “I don’t know what happened, but it got untied,” she states absentmindedly as she looks down at her phone.

“So, then, tie it,” I say to her and she looks over at me. I always heard the saying if looks could kill, and I’m sure I’ve even been on the receiving end of them, but never has it been clearer than right here, right now.

“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?” She glares at me.

“I have no idea what you are trying to do.” I put my hands on my hips, looking at her and then back to the boat that starts to sway closer to mine.

“This.” She points down to the rope at her feet. “Got loose,” she says and even I can tell by her tone that she’s nervous. I walk closer to her, seeing she literally just wrapped the line around the silver cleat. “It was like almost kissing your boat.” She looks over to me, like a deer caught in headlights. “It didn’t touch your boat, I caught it in time, but now I have to make sure it stays secure.”

“What do you mean, it untied itself?” I ask her and maybe that shouldn’t have been what I asked her.

“Would you get off my dick for a second and let me handle this,” she huffs, looking back down at her phone, “I’m going to just YouTube how to tie a boat together and it’ll be fine.” Her hands shake as she starts to listen to the video.

Oh. My. God. “Are you saying that you don’t know how to tie up your boat?” I ask her, not sure I actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. I am too stunned by a couple of things. One, her beside her boat, two, her telling me to get off her dick, and three, her saying her boat almost touched mine.

“What I’m saying is if you give me a second”—she holds up her hand—“I will fix this.”

“So you know how to tie your boat?” I question her, folding my arms in front of me.

“No,” she answers, “but again, in a minute I will.”

I open my mouth to say something but instead I look at her. “Move,” I urge her as I step beside her and she actually moves over. “Come here, and I’ll teach you.” She squats down next to me. “So this is your cleat,” I inform her of the silver T.

“Is that its official name?” she asks me with a serious tone.

“It’s called a cleat.” I nod at her. “The first thing you have to do,” I instruct, unlooping the rope from the cleat, “is have your rope at an angle to the cleat.” I show her. “Passing it under the far side of the cleat, and then wrapping it around your hand to do a circle.” I show her the loop I just made. “Tying it to the other side of the cleat.” I put the loop around the cleat and pull it closed. “And then repeat it on the back side.” I do another loop and then tie it to the other side. “And that’s it,” I say to her and she looks at me.



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