Stinger Read Online Mia Sheridan

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, New Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
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She walked over to me, straddled me, wrapped her arms around my chest, and just held me to her for several minutes as I breathed in her shower-fresh scent.

But when I tipped my head back, I saw that her eyes were distant and she had a slight frown on her face. “Grace, you need to try to shut off your brain for a couple days while we’re here. I know I just dropped a whole shitload of information on you. But trust me, you will just give yourself a migraine if you keep working the information around in your mind while there’s nothing we can really do. The guys and I have gone over every angle, and we have more information than you do right now about the players involved.”

She sighed as she met my gaze. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Oh, I almost forgot, I went out earlier while you were sleeping and got you something.”

“What?” she asked, moving off me.

I got up and grabbed a bag by the door. “I looked for your missing boot this morning, but it was nowhere to be found. It’s snowed so much, the path from where Dylan’s SUV was to the cabin is completely covered over. So I bought you some new boots and a waterproof coat, some gloves, and a hat. They’re from the local supercenter so choices were limited, and I’m also sure my fashion sense is lacking, but they’ll do the job.” I handed the bag to her.

She took it and dug around inside for a minute, checking everything outas I put on my gear. “Not bad actually, on the fashion front. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Put them on and we’ll get going. I looked at your one boot to get your shoe size so hopefully those fit.”

She pulled on the black snow boots with some kind of fake fur showing at the top and the gray-and-black jacket and smiled. “Perfect,” she said.

“Try on the gloves and hat too. I want to see the complete snow-bunny look.”

She raised one eyebrow but pulled the gloves on and then put the hat on too. Goddamn, she was cute. I couldn’t help grinning as my eyes wandered over her.

She laughed, then took my hand and we walked outside. Before I had even locked up the cabin, the worried expression was back on her face and a small crease had formed between her brows. As she started walking in front of me to my truck, I bent and scooped up some snow and started forming a snowball. “Carson, what about the rock the girl was—”

I nailed her right in the back of the head. She stopped dead in her tracks, interrupted midsentence, and turned toward me, her expression incredulous. “Did you just throw a snowball at my head?”

“Yeah, I did. Bullseye.”

“I see,” she said, bending down and gathering up some snow and then beginning to make a snowball.

I laughed. “Oh, buttercup, you have another think coming if you—” And with that, she nailed me right in the face and then laughed out loud, doubling over.

I closed my eyes and wiped the snow from my face, blinking wetness out of my lashes.

“That’s it. It’s on,” I said, scooping up some snow and starting toward her.

She shrieked and ran as fast as her big, clumpy snow boots could carry her, which was to say, exceedingly slow. I laughed and watched her, giving her a head start. It was the least I could do.

She ducked behind some trees, and I went wide around the grove and came in behind her several minutes later. I surveilled her for a couple minutes as she peeked out in front of her and then went back to work on her stockpile, about twenty formed snowballs next to her knees. Valiant effort, buttercup.

But doomed to fail.

I very, very quietly removed my coat and then laid it on the ground and scooped as much snow into it as I could. Then I picked it up and used the trees for cover, moving closer and closer to her.

When I was almost directly behind her, I came out in the open and moved in swiftly as she was forming another snowball, the sound of her gloves working in the snow a mask to any noise I made. Then I raised my full jacket and dumped the whole pile of snow on her head.

She screamed and flailed, whipping around as she shook the snow off of her. I tackled her gently and rolled her to the powdery ground as she laughed and shrieked.

“Who is the snowball-battle master?” I asked, pressing down harder into her.

She laughed harder, trying to buck me off of her.

“Who, Grace? Say it. ‘You are the snowball-battle master, Carson. The heavyweight champion of the frozen tundra. Undefeated now and forever.”

“Okay! Okay! You, Carson, are the snowball champion of…whatever! What you said! You’re the master.” She shrieked again as I tickled her ribs.


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