The Perfect Wrong Read Online Nicole Snow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
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Everything he promised and it’s barely begun.

Soon, we’re awash in music and heated touches, soft lights and filthy anticipation.

I go spinning out on the next song, skittering across the beach before he snaps me back to his hot skin, his teasing kisses, his raw temptation.

He makes me want in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before.

By the time he kisses me again, stealing my breath, I’m dying to feel his mouth crushing mine and never letting up. I’m aching to feel those lips all over me with the same wicked confidence as his hands on my hips.

If he’s thunder, I want to be his whole damn sky.

I want him to fill me.

His hands are everywhere now—just enough to tease, but never lingering to tear at my clothes.

Something I wish he’d do until I remember we’re still messing around in the open.

Oops.

I’m glad I stopped drinking when I did—one more round would’ve knocked me on my butt for sure with his dance moves.

Ditto for the swarming butterflies he’s stirring up from head to toe.

I’m far more drunk on adrenaline, on the fire coursing through my blood, on the red, red lust plucking every nerve until I vibrate with admiration, wanton desire, ruthless excitement.

Obsession, or at least the start of it.

Crazy need.

We dance on for what feels like ten minutes, but it could be hours. I’m breathless by the end, wiping a pleasant sweat off my forehead.

On my last spin, his hands sweep across my ass, grabbing it hard and pulling me into him.

Oh, this is it...

My teeth dig into my bottom lip.

My legs part automatically.

I’m only against him for a second, running my hands slowly down his chest, but I feel the hard, rough promise below his belt.

His bulge pushes against my belly insistently.

The invitation there makes my whole body numb with white-hot pleasure.

I’m dizzy as he finally stops moving and settles us in the sand for good, still holding me close, both of us breathing like we might fall over.

A sharp clapping noise makes me jerk up.

I look around and realize it’s a couple drunken party people applauding us. A smiling couple sits at the bar, watching intently.

Yikes.

I’m about to keel over from embarrassment when I look at him and—

He can’t be serious.

Oh, but he is.

Chris sweeps a low, exaggerated bow like some regency hero man, brushing it off like it’s nothing.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take them more than a second to return to their private fun.

“Holy shit, Chris. Where did you learn to do that?” I’m still winded, my lungs fighting to replenish precious air.

“A man learns a few things when he’s been around the world. Tonight, my world is just this beach,” he says matter-of-factly.

My heart skips.

The way he’s looking at me says it’s not just the beach.

There’s a hunger in his eyes, a feral look I’ve only seen my short-lived boyfriends wearing a few times before.

But for the first time in my life, I’m beaming back the same desire, my eyes huge and pleading.

Please.

Show me the moves you only use when you’re alone with a girl.

“I knew you had a dancer in there somewhere, Delia.” He pushes his chin against my shoulder, moving his lips to my ear. “You move like an angel when I make you. Will you give me the same sweetness when I take your pussy to heaven?”

Oh, God.

He does not mince freaking words.

We walk deeper into the darkness and he grinds against me again.

Another wonderful preview of what happens when that angry, impatient hard-on waiting behind his jeans comes out.

My hand slides down between us, and I grab a fistful of his shirt.

I have to taste him.

Craning my head up, I breathe harshly, demanding a kiss.

I barely need to ask before he drives his firm, strong lips against mine.

Bastard kisser.

Wonderful, arrogant bastard.

Masculine heat floods my mouth.

Just like the secret agent man I imagine he is, Chris blitzes my lips.

His tongue darts through the seam of my lips, intense and decisive, shoving his way inside, chasing my whimper with his growl.

I can’t hold back the moan.

It detonates deep in my belly, pulsing into his mouth, just like he’s stealing some secret part of me that wants to be looted.

And once this new dance begins, we hardly stop.

His breath quickens by the second, hotter and urgent.

His chest bows up, pushing against mine, teasing my nipples with friction wrapped in stormy ink.

So much for regaining my breath.

By the time he breaks the kiss with a murmured, “Fuck,” I’m panting.

Struggling so hard not to pass out from the drumming rhythm in my blood, plus the surreal realization that I’m ready to go all the way with this badass stranger.

I’m excited.

I’m not afraid in the slightest.

“You like how I taste, princess?” His knowing eyes burn me down as I nod shyly.

Like I could even try to deny it.

Smiling, he leans in again, stamping his mad lips up my throat in an onslaught that stretches all the way to my ear. “Good. I want your lips wrapped around every inch of me, Delia. And I mean now.”



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