Southern Heat (Southern #6) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Southern Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“How do you want it?” I ask. I always ask her.

“I want to ride you,” she says, and I turn to grab a condom, and she grabs it from me. “I need you now,” she says, and out of all the layers of Willow, this has to be my second favorite. She tears the wrapper with her teeth and then rolls it down my cock, and I have enough time to hold my cock up before she slides down it. She leans forward, grabbing on to the headboard, and I take the opportunity to bite her nipple, and just like I know her, she rides my cock harder.

“I was dreaming,” she says, using her legs to move up and down, one hand letting go of the headboard as she leans backward. “Of this when the alarm rang,” she says, and I use one hand on her hip and another one to play with her clit. With her nipple in my mouth and my finger on her clit, it is no time before she comes all over my cock. I wait for her to stop before I take over.

I take her from behind as she screams out my name over and over again. Then I carry her to the shower where I wake her up with my mouth, and she returns the favor by taking my cock into her mouth. I leave her in the shower as she finally washes her hair. I look over at her, seeing that her body has filled out even more, and I fucking love every inch of her. I also have tasted every single inch just like I promised her I would.

“I forgot my panties,” she says. “Can you go and get me a pair?”

I shake my head. “This wouldn’t happen if you would move your stuff into the bedroom.” I slip on my boxers and jeans, watching her.

I slip my shirt on. “This wouldn’t be an issue if you didn’t rip off the panties at night.” She puts her hands on her hips, and my cock gets hard again. “If you hurry,” she tells me, “we can take care of that.” She points at my cock, and I walk out of the room, going to her bedroom. I walk into the room that she hasn’t used in two weeks. I walk over to the side table where I know she keeps her panties, and I open the drawer taking a handful. I close the drawer, turning when my foot hits something that is under the bed.

I bend down, lifting up the bed skirt, and see the black bag. Her black bag, my heart speeds up, and my head tells me to leave it alone. But my hand moves before I have a chance to stop it. “Please let it be empty,” I tell myself, and when I pull it out, it’s fully packed. More packed than when we got home. The panties fall out of my hand.

The bag shakes in my hand, and everything happens at once. “What is taking you so …” I hear her voice, and then she stops dead in her tracks when she sees me holding the bag in my hand. I look up, seeing her wrapped in a white plush towel.

“What is this?” I ask, and she takes a step forward. “It’s full.”

I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick. I shake my head. I know I should take a step back. I know that I should give her the benefit of the doubt. I know all of that, but what I also know is that my heart is broken. It’s breaking, and I know deep down inside she was always going to break it. “You will never be at ease, will you?”

“Quinn,” she says my name as tears run down her face, and I look at her, this woman who I love with every single part of my being. “It’s not—”

“It’s not what, Willow?” My own tears fall. “It’s not what I think? Because it’s pretty much your bag packed, ready for you to leave.” The realization hits me like a freight train going a hundred and fifty miles per hour.

“I want to,” she says, and I put the bag on the bed. “I just didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what, Willow? If you wanted to stay,” I finish for her, “you would have unpacked the bag.” I look at her, my heart shattered in my chest, and I am having trouble breathing. “I can’t do this.” I walk away from her toward the door and look back at her. Her body is shaking with tears. “I can’t be that person who forces you to stay. I will never force you to do something you don’t want to do.” I look down. “Even if it kills me.”

I walk out of the bedroom and straight to the door. My feet get heavier and heavier by the time I reach my truck. “I love you,” I say, taking one look back at the window that I know she’s in. “But it’s not good enough.”


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