Wicked Prince (New Orleans Malones #3) Read Online Laylah Roberts

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: New Orleans Malones Series by Laylah Roberts
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
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Well. Darn.

She was in trouble now.

“I think I’ll just go get the stuff ready for your bath.”

“You do that,” he growled.

She rushed into the bathroom.

“Don’t run around on your feet,” he demanded.

“My feet are fine.” It was kind of ridiculous for Maxim to worry about her feet when he had been stabbed.

“Just do as you’re told.”

She peeked back out of the bathroom door to look at him. “Seriously? Do as I’m told?”

“My life would be a lot easier.”

“I live to make your life easier,” she said sarcastically.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he replied. “So you’ll be staying where I put you. You’ll follow all of your rules and won’t give me any sass?”

Grr.

“Don’t hold your breath.” Honestly. This man. He could try the patience of a saint. Something she knew she was not.

Aston found a small bowl in the cabinet. Cleaning it out, she filled it with warm water and got some shower gel, a cloth and a towel.

Then she paused at the entrance to the bedroom. She could do this.

She could totally do this.

Right?

Maybe.

30

Deep breath. You have this.

“Baby? You all right?” His voice was unbelievably soft, which melted her fears away.

This was Maxim. The man she loved. She wanted to help him. Touch him.

“Yep.” She walked in, holding the stuff, she’d gathered and set it down on the nightstand.

“Come here.”

“Oh no.” She pointed her finger at him. “I know how this goes. You are not distracting me. The water is the perfect temperature. You distract me, and then it goes cold.”

“Then you warm it up again. Come here.”

“No. I’m bathing you. I am not getting waylaid by sweet kisses and sweeter words.”

“Baby, you look like you’re going to the dentist.”

Oh, shoot. Did she?

“I didn’t . . . I don’t mean to look like that. Um, I’m not . . . it’s not . . .”

“Put that stuff away, baby. You’re not ready and that’s okay.”

She straightened her shoulders. “No.”

“No?” He gaped at her like he’d never heard the word before.

“No. I am ready. It’s just . . . I’m nervous and it’s ridiculous and that really freaking annoys me.”

“It’s not ridiculous.”

“It is! Because I want to touch you. I want to help you. I have been attracted to you since the first moment I saw you. But I’ve never dated a man. I’m twenty-four-years-old and I’ve only kissed three men, and they were really boys. When I was at school, I tried to remain in the background. But some boys did notice me.”

“Of course they did,” he murmured.

She didn’t understand why he said that, but she kept going. “We snuck kisses at school. Would eat lunch together. But I couldn’t technically date. My father wouldn’t allow it without meeting the boy I was going out with, and I couldn’t take anyone home with me.”

“I’m surprised he cared.”

“He cared because he saw me as an asset,” she muttered. “And he didn’t want that asset getting sullied up in the back of her boyfriend’s car.”

“What?” he whispered.

“He intended to marry me off. I didn’t know about this until I finished school and he started taking me to gang parties. He started introducing me around and I got this bad feeling.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Is that when you ran?”

“It’s when I started making plans. I needed to save some money first. He let me get a part-time job, but he wanted all the money I made. However, I managed to hide most of my tips from him. The night . . . the night I ran, he announced my marriage. To a man three times my age. I was three months from my twentieth birthday.”

“Motherfucking bastard. Where did you go?”

“I moved around several times over the next few years, found someone to help me change my name, dyed my hair this color, and then I came here.”

“Baby, I fucking hate that you had to live through all of that shit.”

“Me too,” she whispered. It hadn’t been easy. There were times when she didn’t know if she was going to make it.

But she had. And she was proud of herself.

“Also, so glad this isn’t your actual hair color.”

She snorted a laugh.

“You have to know that I’m not going to pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

She nodded. “I know you wouldn’t. You’re willing to go slow with me.”

“I’ll take all the time you need me to.”

“But like you said, going slow doesn’t have to mean doing nothing, right?” she asked bravely.

“That still doesn’t mean that there is any pressure on you to do anything.”

“And if I want to?”

Heat filled his eyes. “Then that’s an entirely different thing.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She picked up the cloth and dipped it in the water.

“You’re sure?”

“I always told myself that if I met someone who cared about me, who was protective of me, that I wouldn’t get upset. That I would feel grateful because I’d never had that. I’ve never had gentle. Tender. I’ve never even had a decent level of concern. And with you . . . I have all that and more.”


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