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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“So”—he looks down at me—“is this better than a sex club?” I can’t help but laugh at him.

“I’m going to agree.” I turn in his arms as his hands grab my face, the heat from his hands going right down to my bones. “This is most definitely better than a sex club.” I smile as he leans down and softly kisses my lips. His tongue slides into my mouth, and my tongue fights with his. The kiss starts off slow but quickly goes to hot and heavy. He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My shoes fall off and onto the floor with a clatter before he puts a knee on the bed. He places me down on my back, his lips never leaving mine. Our hands work in a frenzy to get our clothes off of us, our mouths only letting each other go when we have to peel off his T-shirt. He slides into me, our mouths drowning our moans.

We’ve been together before, many, many, many times, but this time, it feels different. This time I feel different. “Xavier.” I finally let his lips go to whisper out his name. His eyes look into mine as our hips thrust to meet each other. I put my hand on his face as he puts his forehead on mine. The words at the tip of my tongue make my heart speed up even more.

“Vivienne,” he says my name in a whisper, and I close my eyes when I jump over the ledge. He buries his face in my neck as he follows me. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him even closer to me. He tries to get me to roll over, but I tighten my grip on him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he says softly.

The lump forms in my throat because the only way he can hurt me is if he walked away from me. Just the thought makes me want to throw up. “I’m fine.” I’m finally able to say without my voice cracking. I don’t know how long we lie here together, but when he slips out of me, I want to call him back. He holds out his hand for me to scoot forward. He grabs a white robe, holding it out for me. “What is this?”

“The bathroom is outside,” he explains, and I can’t help but gawk at him. His laughter fills the trailer. “It’s an outhouse.”

“What does that mean?” I ask him, slipping my hand into the arms of the robe.

“I have no idea, but we’ll find out together.” He grabs his own robe and puts it on. He snags my hand, slipping his fingers in mine.

“I’m going to just say this,” I tell him as he slides the glass door open. “Not a fan of outhouses.” He just chuckles as he walks to the side of the trailer, and we see a wooden door. I hide behind him as he opens the door. A sink, toilet, and standing shower fill the room. “This is smaller than the bathroom on airplanes,” I mumble as he walks inside.

“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much before I met you,” he states, bending and kissing my neck.

“You’re welcome,” I return as he turns on the shower.

“This is going to be a tight squeeze,” he tells me, and I can’t help but roll my lips. It is not only a tight squeeze; we have to turn at the same time. I have never laughed so much in my whole life. My stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing. After getting dressed again, we sit outside facing the mountains.

The smell of coffee fills the trailer, and my eyes flicker open. I stretch my arms before mumbling, “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you,” Xavier says, and I turn to watch him make my coffee naked. I grab a couple of pillows from the side, putting them behind me as I sit up in bed. My back’s against the trailer, the sun streaming in through all the windows. He walks back over, holding two cups of coffee, putting one knee on the bed. I sit up, holding the white sheet to my naked body.

“Thank you.” I smile at him as he gets back into the bed. He kisses my lips before taking his place on the bed next to me.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks me, and I just smile at him, nodding.

“Surprisingly well,” I tell him as I take another sip of the hot coffee.

“You know,” he starts to say, “you never asked me how yesterday went.” The coffee now feels like it’s about to climb back up my throat.

I avoid looking into his eyes. “I didn’t want to pry,” I answer honestly, leaving out that I wasn’t ready for him to tell me he’s moving to Vegas. I wasn’t ready to be the needy person who asked him, what about me? I didn’t want to put any more pressure on him than he had.



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