My Wicked Heart (Wicked Poison #2) Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Poison Series by T.L. Smith
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Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
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“Are you going somewhere?” Rylee asks.

“I am. I found a cute little apartment not too far from here. Oliver and I are moving in there.” Rylee looks back to Oliver and smiles.

“You don’t have to go,” I tell Mary again.

“I do. I really do.”

I glance down to Mary’s ring finger and see her wedding band is no longer there. It’s not just me who notices that fact either. Rylee does too.

“Do you need any help?”

Mary pulls a bag up higher on her shoulder. “This would be a lot easier if you weren’t so nice. I could make myself stay. But you are, and August…” Mary looks back to me. “Well, you know August.”

Rylee stands there quietly, watching this all play out. I ask Rylee to take Winter inside while I help Mary pack her car. When the last bag is in, Oliver comes up to me and shakes my hand. He is growing up to be a great little man. I pull him in for a quick hug before he gets in the car.

“She still loves you, you know,” Mary says, looking over my shoulder to the house.

I step up to her and cup her cheek. “Stay,” I ask her.

Mary’s head shakes in my hand, and she places her hand over mine. “It’s not the right thing to do. We both know it. Take it slow with her. She may love you, but any woman can tell she is bruised from doing so.” She pulls away and gets into her car, then drives off. I stand there until her taillights can no longer be seen before I turn around to go back inside.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come back.

Maybe I should have stayed away.

Opening the front door, I see Winter and Rylee both curled up on the couch, asleep.

No, I definitely couldn’t have stayed away.

Not from either of them.

Chapter 22

Rylee

I wake to a noise and tiptoe, so I don’t wake Winter. Managing to get up in my long dress, I see August baking in the kitchen.

“She needs to go to bed,” I tell him.

He turns to face me and brushes his hands on his shorts before he walks over, skimming right past me, and reaches for a sleeping Winter. I sit back down, my head in my hands, while I wait for him to come back out. When he does, he stands directly in front of me.

“You fucked Anderson’s mother.” I say the words but don’t want them to be true. They taste sour on my tongue.

“This … this is why you were never meant to find out. Look at that judgment passing over your face right now.”

He isn’t wrong.

I am judging him.

It’s hard not to.

“You fucked my ex’s mother, and you forgot to tell me this?” I shake my head.

“I fucked a whole lot of people. Do you want a fucking list?” he snaps back.

I shake my head in disgust. He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, straightening it up. “See, in those dark eyes, you are judging so fucking hard.”

I meet his angry gaze. “It’s disgusting, on so many levels.”

He doesn’t let go of my chin. “You never seemed to complain when I fucked you.”

I gasp at his words.

“Did my cock not meet your expectations?” he asks, as one side of his lip curls up. “Because if I remember clearly, you liked it when I fucked you. You liked it a lot.”

“That’s…” I pull back, so his fingers drop from my face, “… beside the point.”

He smirks and steps closer to me. My heart rate picks up at his nearness, and I have to remember to breathe with him so close.

I may be disgusted with him, but I also love him.

That last part he doesn’t need to know.

“It is the point. You say you’re disgusted, but right now, dressed in that beautiful dress, I can see your nipples are erect just by being close to me.”

I look down and see they are.

Shit.

“Do you want me to fuck you, perhaps? You know, considering I disgust you and all?”

“I…” Words fail me. August is right. I want him to touch me. There has never been a time since we met that I didn’t want him to touch me. His touch softens me, heals me, makes me feel whole. August’s touch is as wicked and beautiful as the night sky in a storm. You want to touch, feel, but you know it’s dangerous. And like a storm chaser, you have to pursue until you’re lost in his vortex.

“Last chance to run.” August captures me before I can utter another word, his hands pulling me to him, and my body smashes into him.

I should be saying no.

I should be stopping this.

But it would be like trying to stop a speeding train with my bare hands. Impossible.

His mouth touches me first, and when his lips meet mine, I freeze in that moment to take it all in.



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