Fornever Yours Read Online Natasha Anders

Categories Genre: Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 126589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
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“I was feeling vulnerable and exposed that day, Gideon. I lashed out. If it’s any consolation, my opinion of you has changed. I haven’t thought of you in that way in quite some time.”

He didn’t look convinced, but she could tell from his shuddering inhalation that he wanted to believe her.

“What changed your opinion?”

She smiled. “Little things. Big things. So many things.”

“What things?”

“Oh, I don’t know…Nipple tattoos? My gutter? The way you’re always helping Aunty Naz with her groceries? Taking a bullet for me? Sitting with me in that hospital for hours when you didn’t have to? An omelet for an irritable, ungrateful woman, when you could so easily have gone straight home?”

His face had gone bright red and Beth found herself wholly charmed by that blush.

“I didn’t take a bullet for you,” he corrected faintly, while his eyes avoided hers.

“You totally did,” she denied calmly. “I bet you have a killer bruise too, right?”

His lips remained clamped shut.

“You do, don’t you?” she said, her voice almost indecently eager. “Show me!”

“What? No.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

“Your what?” he asked, his voice going flat as his dangerously glinting eyes swung toward hers.

“My bruise. It’s massive.”

He muttered something beneath his breath, and Beth was almost certain the words were “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Kill who?”

“How bad is it?” he asked her. His eyes were almost frighteningly intense.

“You going to show me yours?”

He glowered at her before standing up and turning around—that lovely butt so snugly encased in denim at almost exactly her eye level—and yanked his t-shirt halfway up his back.

Beth sighed in appreciation at the magnificent sight of that toned, taut, broad back. His hard muscles rippled with the most miniscule of movements. She allowed herself a moment to happily reacquaint herself with his perfect musculature before homing in on the massive circular bruise just to the left of his spine. A corona of ugly green and yellow—with pinpricks of dark purple adding a technicolor hue to the whole thing—spreading from a circle of dull pink and red. It was impressive as hell.

“Ouch, that still looks painful,” she breathed as she pushed to her feet to run light fingers over the healing bruise. The muscles in his back twitched in reaction to her trailing touch, and he sucked in a shocked breath.

Her fingers whispered across the expanse of his back, leaving the bruise—her bruise—to trace another smaller one just above the small of his back. He had several other bruises, but none of them were as big or as dark as the one he’d taken for her.

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely, and she swallowed, her fingers curling in on themselves as she withdrew her hand from his warm, velvety flesh.

“Looking,” she whispered, and he turned around, dragging his shirt back down before she could salivate over his taut stomach and perfect six pack.

“Show me yours,” he demanded unevenly, stepping toward her and Beth instantly felt crowded by him. She could have stepped back, she had ample room, but she chose to remain exactly where she was and got a kink in her neck from looking up at him.

She maintained eye contact while she attempted to undo the knot just below her belly button. His neck bent as his eyes fell to her hands, his gaze focused and intent, and his entire body rigid with tension.

Beth’s fingers fumbled beneath the weight of that expectant stare and he made a growly sound before impatiently sweeping her hands aside and taking over the task. His bigger hands should have had more difficulty with the task, but he made swift work of untying the knot and then unceremoniously shoving the shirt up to her rib cage.

His breath caught at the sight of the huge contusion just below the under swell of her left breast, it was similar in color and size to his but looked much bigger because of her narrow torso.

She jerked in shock when he unexpectedly dropped to his knees. His eyes were now just about level with the bruise. He scrutinized it closely, his breathing fast and a little labored. He was saying something, his words soft, breathless, not quite audible. His fingers gently skimmed across the discoloration, probing at the darker spots with aching tenderness.

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, tilting his head back to meet her eyes.

She shook her head, unable to speak, still a little staggered by the fact that he was on his knees in front of her. She wasn’t at all sure how to react to his obvious distress at the sight of the bruise.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered in a strangled voice.

“This again?” Beth attempted to insert lightness into her own tone. She cupped his jaw, tilting his head back so that she could look into his eyes, and smoothed her thumbs over his stubbled jawline. “I’m super proud of this mark. It was this funky purplish-black color a few days ago.”


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