Saint Read Online A. Zavarelli books (Boston Underworld #4)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
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Perfect.

A devil in angel’s clothing.

I smash my face between her thighs and inhale her, rubbing myself all over her like a dog. It’s been too long since I’ve had her, and I tell her as much as I suck the fabric of her panties into my mouth.

“Nuh-uh.” She grabs my hair and shoves my head back. “We only have a little bit of time. So do something really dirty to me.”

There’s a knock on the door, interrupting us.

“Fuck.”

“It’s me,” Conor whispers. “She’s heading this way in about two minutes.”

I stand up and give Scarlett a quick kiss on the lips and tell her about plan B.

“Meet me in the confessional booth in five.”

“Are you serious?” she laughs.

“As a heart attack, baby.”

I grab her hand and wrap it around the hard on in my trousers. She pumps it twice and my head falls back on a groan.

“Five minutes,” I tell her hoarsely. “Don’t be late.”

And then I’m out the door, dragging Conor along with me. Luckily, this part of the church is empty at this stage while everyone’s getting ready for the wedding.

“Ye’re gonna have to be my lookout,” I tell Conor.

He nods.

I bolt into the confessional booth. Which is smaller than I remember. But it’ll do. I’d fuck Scarlett in a tin can right now if I had the opportunity.

My little devil is a minute early.

And I reward her by spinning her around and jamming a hand inside of her panties.

“Conor’s outside,” she says.

“Do you care?” I ask, knowing full well he can hear everything that we’re doing in here.

“Fuck no.” She grinds her ass against me. “Let’s show him how it’s done.”

And we do.

I bunch up her dress and grab onto her hair, bending her over and fucking her right there in the confessional.

Nothing has ever felt so good.

Or wrong, when I think about my own childhood confessions in one of these booths.

It’s quickly forgotten when Scarlett comes all over me in two seconds flat. I just want to keep fucking her forever.

I never want to leave this booth, or the warmth of her body.

But Scarlett ends it with a single sentence when she reaches back to brush her fingers over my neck.

“I’m not on the pill anymore.”

I come so hard I almost black out. Even just thinking about knocking her up has me getting hard again inside of her.

“That wasn’t very dirty,” I apologize.

I’m off my game.

But still.

Seven days.

“No,” she agrees. “But this will be.”

And then she sinks to her knees in her white dress, wrapping her mouth around my cock to clean me up.

As it turns out, Conor wasn’t a very good lookout.

I choke back a laugh and try my best to look remorseful as mammy scolds us. But eventually, she just gives up and throws her hands into the air. Stealing Scarlett away from me to make her look more like a bride again and less like the heathen who just let me come all over her tits.

Before the wedding kicks off, the men do their man things. Drinking and heckling me mostly. Telling me life is over as I know it, now.

But it’s all in good fun.

And honestly, I couldn’t be happier to wear a ring.

Because it isn’t just for anyone. It’s for Scarlett.

“When are you going to get her in a family way?” Dom teases me.

“About five minutes ago,” I remark.

They all congratulate me again… because we’re men and this is the type of bullshite we do.

All the lads are here. Their wives and girlfriends too.

And a visitor I didn’t expect.

Booker.

He shakes my hand when he comes in, and his eyes bounce around the room. It’s risky for him to be here, in the open like this. Associating with us.

But I suppose it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

“She isn’t here,” I tell him. “Haven’t seen her since she bailed at Alexei’s.”

“Of course.” He nods, but he’s disappointed. “Just came to congratulate you.”

We shoot the breeze for a few minutes and have a drink before something over my shoulder catches his attention.

There’s a girl.

In a blue wig.

Her face is turned, and I don’t think it’s her, but Booker’s already after it. He follows her down the aisle and taps her on the shoulder.

When she turns around, she winks and smiles.

It isn’t Storm, but she hands him a folded note. He reads it, and she disappears.

“What is it?” I ask when he comes back over.

He hands it to me.

* * *

Thought you were getting warmer, B.

But you’re ice cold now.

Come and find me already.

I’m waiting…

Xoxo

Storm

* * *

I shake my head and hand it back to him. “Good luck with that one, buddy.”

He nods and gives me one last toast before he bails and mammy tells us it’s time to take our spots at the front of the church.

And then I wait. For my beautiful little hellraiser to walk down the aisle.



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