When He Reads to Me Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
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“It’s not hard to disappoint me. I do that all by myself.” He stays quiet. “Do you have any kids?”

He shrugs. “Not that I’m aware of.”

My mouth hangs open, and he leans over and places a finger under my chin before he lifts it up, closing it.

“I’d suggest you keep that mouth closed unless you want my tongue in it.” I smack his hand away.

“How dare you.” He doesn’t care. He never did, so he goes back to eating.

“Where is your husband, Elizabeth?”

I shrug because I don’t know.

He stands, and I can’t help but notice how his black jeans move so easily with those muscular legs, and the way they fit perfectly on his hips should be illegal. I also note the absence of his leather vest. For some reason, he doesn’t wear it around me. Milo steps up to the back of the couch, and that’s when I see his vest. He puts it on and then comes back around in front of me.

“You tell anyone I looked after you, I’ll kill them,” he says, smirking.

“So you won’t kill me for telling?”

His tongue darts out and touches that scar I love to watch his tongue lick. “No, just whoever knows.” He winks and nods to the medicine. “Take it. If you don’t, well…” He doesn’t finish before he turns to leave, and I yell out after him, “Thank you, Milo.”

“You could thank me with your mouth,” he says, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s grinning.

“No, I’m married,” I reply and hear him release a breath before the door shuts.

I managed to eat some more food and then stand on shaky legs to take the leftovers to the fridge so I could eat something later since I have no money to buy anything else.

Slowly, I head back to the couch and proceed to pass out for the rest of the day.

“Fuck, everything is a mess. Have you been lying there all fucking week? And the front door? What have you fucking done? I’m going to have to fix it!” I hear Cody bark before I can comprehend what’s happening.

I sit up and rub my eyes. No, how are you? What are you doing?

He leans down and puts his face right in mine.

“Do you remember a time when we actually liked each other?” I ask because I really want to know what he thinks. I feel like I don’t even remember the last time I liked this man.

“What are you even talking about, Lissie?” He goes into the kitchen and opens the fridge, then looks back at me as I stand from the couch. “How did you afford this food?” He motions to the leftover Thai. Milo bought so much that I managed to freeze some to make it last longer.

“Do you even like me, Cody?” I question.

He shuts the fridge and goes to the front door, and I watch as he fixes the lock before he returns to me. Stopping in front of me so we are almost toe-to-toe, he leans in. “I love you.”

The words taste bitter, and they didn’t even leave my mouth.

“I love you, or I wouldn’t support you,” he says. Then he does something so unexpected I’m taken aback. His mouth moves closer, and I stand there, frozen, as it happens in slow motion. His lips land on mine, and his hand goes to the back of my head. His mouth moves against mine, and I stay stock still.

He pulls back when he realizes I’m not responding to his kiss. His blue eyes, which I once thought I loved—or maybe it was when I was high that I loved them—lock with mine.

“Tell me you love me too, Lissie.” I shake my head slightly. “I’m your husband.”

“No,” I say, then I realize the audacity of this man. The way he thinks he can force his lips on me as if I would enjoy his kiss. For a man with a limp dick that can only get up for porn, he sure is cocky. “I don’t want to be here anymore, with you.” I breathe the words out, and then I feel the wind knocked out of me, literally, not just figuratively. His fist slams straight into my stomach, and I fall forward, my head hitting his shoulder.

“You love me, or have you forgotten?” he snarls.

I vowed the minute his hands touched me in violence, I would leave him.

I will not go back on my word.

Not this time.

I hold my stomach and step back, and his eyes track my movements.

“I own you, Lissie. Did you forget?” he growls, his voice dripping with menace. His eyes bore into mine, leaving no doubt about the intensity of his claim. Arrogant asshole!

I turn, clutching my stomach, and head toward the door. As I twist the handle on the door, he grabs me, yanks me back, and slams the door shut.


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