Sleight of Hand (Blackbridge Security #7) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Blackbridge Security Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
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But I do have a headache. My entire body aches right now—my chest and the muscle beating there. My fingers ache to touch him, my throat from the effort not to cry.

“I don’t like lying to people,” I tell him, and that’s a truth I can manage.

He nods, his eyes focusing out the front glass before he shifts into drive and pulls away. The drive back into the city is quiet, and it seems to take hours longer than the ride out to his parents’ house, even with the anticipation earlier of not knowing where I was going. The music playing softly over the radio doesn’t serve as much of a distraction as it’s too low to even tell when one song transitions into the next, but I don’t dare reach for the controls to change the station or turn it up. It may make him speak, and conversation could be a bad thing right now. It could raise questions, and those require answers. I’m not sure if any of that will be beneficial to either of us.

Gaige doesn’t pull up in front of my hotel when we arrive, and as he parks like he’s a guest in the side lot, anxiety ratchets through me. Earlier, my delusions made the day feel like the beginning of something incredible. Right now feels like the end.

“Can I come up with you?” His words are soft and pleading.

I nod because it’s impossible to turn him down.

We exit the car at the same time, meeting in front of the vehicle but not touching as we walk inside. The ride up in the elevator is spent the very same way the car ride was—silent and reflective.

As we step off and enter the hotel room, I’m not sure either one of us is sure of what’s going to happen as we look at each other.

“Today,” he begins, but I hold my hand up.

I don’t want to talk about it. I can’t talk about it.

Today destroyed me.

Pulling up to that house, I was terrified I was being used as a pawn, walking into a situation much like the one I was raised in with snide remarks and scathing looks, well-placed insults disguised as helpful suggestions.

It was much worse. Today showed me what real love was, that it honestly existed, and I’ve been missing it all this time.

“I don’t want to talk,” I tell him as I lift the hem of my sundress and pull it over my head, leaving me standing in my bra and panties.

I kick my sandals away, unsnapping my bra before shoving my panties to the floor.

“You’re a goddess,” he whispers, his eyes on mine rather than running the length of my naked form.

Somehow, it seems even more invasive.

I reach for him, my fingers pushing the buttons at his throat through their respective holes as he stands still. The only thing moving on him is his chest as he takes shallow breaths. I pull his shirt over his head, next working open his khakis, shoving them along with his boxer briefs down. There’s no skill or seduction in it. Getting us both naked is the means to the end. He kicks his shoes off at the same time he kicks his clothing away, and then we’re both standing there naked. Neither of us touching.

“On the bed,” I tell him, taking over the commands when he’s normally the one giving them.

His cock bounces as he moves, and I find myself a little hypnotized by it. Once he’s flat on his back, I start to climb on top of him, but remember the condom. I have to crawl back off and grab one from his wallet before returning.

“Kiss me,” he whispers, reaching for me, but I can’t.

We didn’t that first night, and maybe that’s where we started going wrong. Maybe that intimacy is where things started to turn.

I press my lips to his abdomen, letting the groan that escapes from his lips wash over me before leaning back and rolling the latex over his cock. His hips flex, muscles all over his body taut and rigid.

I don’t waste time straddling him. I’m ready, so ready to sink down on him, and we both moan in relief when I do. His hands find my hips, but before long, one is on my back, urging me forward, so I have to lock both of my arms, hands splayed on his chest so he can’t pull me against him.

“Fuck, Leighton, please,” he begs. “Need you closer.”

If he could give me what I needed, I’d give everything of me in return, but I’m too raw already, too exposed to risk further damage. I may not recover as it is.

I lift and fall, over and over, letting the pleasure my body is feeling erase the pain I feel elsewhere. It’s close to working when the world turns upside down, and Gaige flips me onto my back. The loss of stability makes me lose the upper hand, and he’s right there, covering me completely, his lips on mine, tongue gaining access to my mouth when I gasp in surprise.



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