Ours (Strength & Heat Trilogy #3) Read Online T.O. Smith

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Dark Tags Authors: Series: Strength & Heat Trilogy Series by T.O. Smith
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Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 110549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
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His eyes met mine, understanding in their depths. I swallowed thickly. He wasn’t looking at me with pity or with disgust, and that shit always wore me down. It’s what drew me into Jessie.

“Get the fuck out of my garage, Loretta,” Jessie snarled at my mother.

“You can’t keep me from my daughter, Harold,” she snapped at Jessie, using his last name.

“I damn well can, and I fucking am!” he barked, losing his cool. He never had much patience for anyone but me. “Get the fuck out of my goddamn garage!” he roared, making her flinch. I had to admit, Jessie was terrifying sometimes.

I let my eyes meet Lincoln’s blue ones again. “Let’s go,” he told me gruffly.

“Where?” I demanded to know, still focusing on Jessie trying to get my mother to leave. Warmth spread through my chest as I watched Jessie. He had been protective of me since day one. It was part of the reason I had fallen so hard for him.

“Anywhere you want to go,” Lincoln told me. I ripped my eyes from Jessie to look back at Lincoln. “Let’s just get out of here.”

I looked back over my shoulder, meeting Jessie’s eyes as he gripped my mother’s arm to drag her out of the garage. He nodded once at me, his eyes softening the slightest bit. I looked back at Lincoln. “Lead the way,” I grumbled.

Lincoln

I looked over at West as I drove down the old dirt road that led to the place I had inherited from my grandfather. She had her head resting on the window, watching the tree line as I drove, but I could tell she was antsy. Her fingertips were tapping against her bare thigh, her leg bouncing up and down restlessly.

I ripped my eyes from her, clenching my jaw, hating how fucking attracted I was to her. Why was I always attracted to the ones that had so much baggage?

Didn’t I have enough of my own shit to deal with?

I tightened my hand around the steering wheel. “You need a cigarette?” I asked her.

“I feel like I need the whole fucking pack,” she grumbled.

I rolled down my windows and reached over her smooth legs, pulling my glove compartment open. I pulled out a pack of Kools, being careful not to brush her thighs before I tossed them into her lap. “Go ahead,” I told her. “You left yours at the garage.”

“Thanks,” she replied gruffly, instantly taking one and lighting it up. “Surprised you’re not asking a fuck ton of questions right now,” she commented after a moment.

I shrugged, slowing down to get ready to make another turn. “Been where I’ve been, you learn not to push people. People will talk when they’re good and ready.”

She turned so she was sitting sideways on the seat, crossing her legs as she did so, drawing my eyes to her thick thighs. I swallowed hard, ripping my eyes away from her and back to the road. “How old are you, Lincoln?” she asked me.

“Twenty-six,” I informed her.

“Have you always lived here?”

I shrugged. “I left when I turned eighteen—eventually came back once my contract with the Marines was up,” I told her. I glanced over at her, barely restraining a groan as I watched her lips wrap around the filter of her cigarette. Fuck, I wished that cigarette was my cock. “How old are you?” I asked. I’d been assuming she was eighteen, but I needed it clarified.

“Eighteen,” she informed me. I’d been right then. “Turned eighteen a couple of days ago when they released me from juvie.” She snorted with a roll of her eyes. “Happy mother fucking birthday to me,” she muttered.

Fuck, I was in deep. It was confirmed. She was fucking legal.

“You like swimming?” I asked her as I pulled into the driveway of the double-wide trailer my granddad had left me in his will while I was stuck overseas. When I’d come back, I’d moved in here, making this my home.

“Sure.” She looked ahead of us, her eyebrows raising slightly as she whistled lightly. “This place is actually pretty nice, Lincoln,” she told me as I turned the truck off.

I slid out of the truck at the same time she did, watching as she looked around her. Her eyes had brightened as she took in the nature surrounding her, and I hated that the slightly happy look in her eyes tugged at something in my soul. I really didn’t want to be attracted to her so much.

Her eyes landed on the pond in the front yard, and she instantly began walking down towards the dock, inviting herself to tour my place.

I swear, it turned me on even more. I loved a confident woman.

“When shit always got too much, I used to sneak out here,” she informed me. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my dirty jeans as I watched her and listened. “Except I would be on that side of the pond, where the tree line is.” She pointed the location out. “The old man that lived here—he would just watch me. Sometimes, if it was cold out, he would leave me a blanket, and if it was hot, he would leave me water. He never initiated contact with me, and I never initiated contact with him, but he was the nicest person I knew.”


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