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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He also knows how very little it takes to get me wet.

“You can hold the sass for later,” he growls. “Stop worrying about everybody else and enjoy yourself. This is your last big bash before school.”

Before I can say anything else, he leads me over to the bar, where I watch him ladle out premade punch for us.

He’s strangely light today, humming as he scoops ice into our glasses.

Wow.

What gives?

It’s like the weight of the world is off his shoulders. Or is he just trying too hard to seem carefree?

To paper over intense worries under the surface?

It’s hard to study his face without burning every time those green eyes draw me in.

“Cheers. Cool off.” Smiling, he shoves the punch into my hand, downs his in one gulp, and then refills his glass with beer from the huge keg next to the table. “Word of warning, we’re dancing when it kicks off later.”

“Um, what?” I almost spit out my drink. “I don’t dance, Chris. Especially when I’m wrapped up like a Delia sausage.”

“Fuck yeah, my favorite kind of meat,” he whispers in my ear.

I burst out laughing at how adorably dumb that sounds.

Apparently, it’s the signal he needs to grab me by the waist and flatten me against him.

For just a second, I see a heavy spark in his eyes I haven’t noticed since Vegas.

It’s not just my imagination.

And it’s different, but I’m not sure if it’s because we’re that in love, or because we’re both so afraid it could all come crashing down.

“Remember the night we met? How good we felt together on this beach? You danced real sweet for me, lady.” His hand slides down my hip, cupping my ass through the thick blue fabric.

Oh, like I could even try to forget.

“...that wasn’t exactly dancing. And it’s going to get crazy tonight for sure,” I whisper. “Marnie told the DJ to open with something classical. I mean, Jesus...all these drinks and Mozart? I hope nobody slips and breaks a kneecap.”

Knowing Marnie, the waltz will be a short-lived prank before she falls back on the usual playlist of hits probably cobbled together from whatever’s trending on TikTok.

“Bull,” Chris rumbles in my ear, his grip on my butt tightening. It makes me think about all the times he pulled my legs open, pushing his tongue into me. I shudder. “You dance like an angel without any clothes in the way. You can do it dolled up, too, princess. Have a little faith. Nobody—and I mean goddamned nobody—else here has anything on how gorgeous you are.”

Welp.

There goes any notion of standing under my own will.

I go down swooning and I’m not even ashamed.

His free hand sweeps over my face as I collapse against his chest, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“Maybe you need a reminder you’re mine, Cordelia Burr. That means I don’t give a single shit if everybody knows it. Hell, I want every asshole jock in the house to eat his fucking heart out when he sees your lips on mine. I want ’em to shake their girls all night because they’ll be that jealous, that pissed off that they’ll never have a girl like you who’s prettier than every damn sunset she’ll ever paint. And those paintings are glorious.”

Floored.

I’m speechless as he brushes a finger over my lips, signaling he isn’t done.

“Chris...”

“Hush. I want every rich dick in the city to know how amazing you are and wonder how the hell I got so lucky. Let ’em see how hard I’ll fight if anybody ever comes sniffing at what’s mine. Even if I’m not around to keep you under lock and key from dusk till dawn.” He pauses to kiss my neck, between my shoulder and ear, and my hips instinctively tilt into his. “That’s you, babe. All mine. Forever. No going back.”

Seriously.

How the heck are we supposed to dance when I’m already coming apart?

And what did he mean about not being around?

Is he about to leave without telling me?

“So, are you trying to kill me with a sugar overload?” I ask, smiling up into his eyes. “And is everything okay?”

“Never better,” he says without missing a beat.

Weird.

“You just seem... I don’t know. Kinda optimistic tonight,” I venture, though I’m not sure that’s the right word.

He smiles. “I’ve done a lot of thinking and I’m feeling damn good about the future. We’ll figure out some way to break the news about us to your old man when he comes home without him wanting to tear my head off. We’re a couple, Delia. I’m telling you and everybody else, here and now.”

My mouth falls open.

My heart sputters, falters before I can catch my breath.

His iron grip releases, and I stumble back a step, eyeing the bar. I need a break and I need freaking air after taking all this in.



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