Southern Storm Read online Natasha Madison (Southern #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
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“Morning,” she mumbles. I look down at her, and she’s blinking her eyes open and then closing them again. Yesterday was a day I would love to forget. Apart from the time I thought she slept with my best friend, this was the worst day of my life.

“Morning,” I mumble. I wait for her to get up and take her hand off my waist. I also hold my breath, waiting for her to drag her leg off my hip. I’m hoping when she does that, she doesn’t feel my cock.

“Are you stiff?” she asks, and I look down at her, my palms suddenly super sweaty. Her head moves from my chest as she looks up at me. “Is your neck sore from sleeping with no pillow?”

“Oh.” I let out a sigh of relief that she isn’t asking about my other stiff member. “No, it’s fine.”

When she gets up off me, her legs gently brush my cock, and my eyes fly to hers to see if she felt it. I start to come up with excuses in my head, but what excuse could I come up with?

“I’ll make coffee,” she mumbles, and I lie on the couch, watching her perfect ass walk away. I put my hand over my head and stare up at the ceiling that I helped paint last year. I then turn my head and see her standing in the kitchen just off the family room. She opens the cabinets and takes down two mugs, and I have to smile. Last year when we took Ethan to Disney, she bought me the Beast mug from Beauty and the Beast. I kept forgetting to grab it, so it’s been here ever since. Every time she makes me coffee, it’s in that mug. I sit up on the couch and rub my hands over my face and stand. My body screams as my muscles feel tight. Fuck, I guess sleeping on this couch did leave me stiff, and I groan.

“Did you want to take a shower?” she asks over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” I say, walking to the kitchen, and the smell of fresh coffee fills the air.

“I still have your clothes from last time,” she says, going to the fridge and getting her hazelnut creamer. “They are in my closet.”

The last time I came over, it was right after one of my meetings, I was dressed in a suit and Ethan wanted to go to the park. Luckily, I had my gym bag in the car, so I changed and left my clothes here by accident. “I washed and ironed them.” She hands me the cup of coffee, and I sit down at the island. She stands on the other side and holds her own cup of coffee in her hand, taking a sip and then putting it down. She grabs her hair and ties it on top of her head, leaving her tanned neck open, and I know exactly where I would want to kiss her. “What time is your meeting?”

“Ten,” I say. “But I’ll get there when I get there. They can both fuck off.”

“Um.” She looks down, and I see that she is blinking fast, which means she is about to cry. I can’t take her crying anymore. She’s cried enough to last two lifetimes; it’s time for her to smile. “I don’t want to get in the middle.”

“Savannah,” I say her name, but she doesn’t look up at me. “Look at me, sweetheart.” Her head slowly comes up, and I see the same look she had last night. The turmoil, the hurt, the pain, all of the stress on her shoulders. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I can’t do it.” She blinks and then swallows slowly. “I can’t regret it. Ethan, he’s …”

“He’s the best kid there is, and he’s got the best father,” I say, and she just nods. I get up, grabbing my coffee. “I’m going to head to the shower.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “I bought you new shower stuff.” Say what you want about her, but she has to have the biggest heart, and she takes care of the people she cares about. We’ve been best friends forever, and in the past seven years, we’ve gotten even closer. I’ve been around for the colic and the teething. I’ve spent more nights on her couch than I can count, and we’ve eaten dinner together most nights of the week.

Walking down the hall to the door right next to Ethan’s bedroom, I enter the bathroom and close the door behind me. I spend extra time in the shower, letting the hot water run down my neck, and when I get out, I grab a towel and then wrap it around my waist. As I open the door, I hold the towel at the side to make sure it doesn’t slip down. I smell bacon as soon as I head to the kitchen, and when she sees me, her mouth falls open. “I forgot to grab my clothes.” Walking to her room, I go into her small walk-in closet and spot the white button-down shirt hanging over the pair of blue pants right away. I walk back into the bathroom, then slip on my boxers and finish getting dressed.



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