Alaric (Golden Glades Henchmen MC #8) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Golden Glades Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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A rumbling sound moved through him.

“Stop,” he demanded, voice tight.

“Why?” I asked, reaching up to slip my fingers into his hair, knowing he loved that.

“You know why,” he said, glancing down at me as we got beside the car, and he lowered me onto my feet.

“Is that a problem?” I asked, my hand shamelessly teasing down his chest, then stomach, and boldly cupping his crotch over his jeans, making him tilt his head to the skies, looking for some self-control.

“Yes,” he said finally. Albeit unconvincingly.

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking wasted, baby,” he said, smiling at me.

“That’s okay. I consent,” I said, trying to slip my hand into his waistband.

“You can’t,” he countered, grabbing my hand, and moving it away before pulling open the door, and nudging me inside. “Don’t sulk,” he demanded as we started to drive.

“I’m not sulking.”

“You are,” he countered, shooting me a smirk.

“It’s not like I’m a stranger,” I reasoned, turning in my seat.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, determined to be a good, upstanding guy.

Damn him.

“But you can take care of yourself when we get home,” he offered.

“Boo,” I grumbled.

“And then you can climb all over me as soon as you sober up,” he reasoned.

“Fine,” I said, leaning my head back on the rest, feeling the car start to lull me asleep.

Only to be rudely awoken by Alaric’s door slamming as we, I assumed, arrived home.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” he said, reaching for me.

“I can walk,” I insisted, climbing out, and immediately proving myself wrong. “I may have overestimated my abilities,” I said, swaying into him.

“That’s alright,” he said, scooping me up again.

“Hey, Alaric?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I like parties,” I declared, feeling his laugh even before I heard it.

“I see that,” he agreed.

“And guess what your sister said.”

“What’d she say?”

“That I’m good for you,” I said, nodding for emphasis.

“Yeah? I think so too,” he agreed, bringing his leg up to brace me on, so he could unlock the front door.

“But you… you, sir,” I said as we moved through the house. “You are a baaaad influence.”

“I accept that about myself,” he agreed as he sat me off the edge of the bed, then stooped down to remove each of my shoes. “You gonna be good and stay in bed while I take Frida for a little walk?” he asked as I crawled up the mattress, before collapsing onto the pillows.

“I can’t go anywhere until the world stops rocking like this,” I said.

“Huh. Okay. We’re just gonna put this garbage bin right here,” he said, getting up to move it next to the bed. “In case you need it,” he added.

“It’s really hot,” I declared, starting to claw at my dress, yanking it roughly up, but getting tangled in it.

“Here,” he said, reaching to remove it for me himself.

Nearly naked, I shot him a smile.

“Are you rethinking your decision on all this?” I asked, waving toward myself.

“Oh, baby, you are making this hard as fuck,” he said.

“That’s good,” I decided, reaching toward his button again.

“That’s… not what I meant,” he said, shaking his head at me as he removed his hand, taking it, and pressing it between my thighs instead. “You do you. I’m going to get some air.”

I’d already rolled over and passed out before he could even get Frida out the front door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Alaric

She was feeling that fourth margarita when she woke up, bleary-eyed, grumbling at the sun as she rolled out of bed, and made her way to the bathroom.

For someone who never drank, four was pushing it. We’d lucked out that she’d passed out before she could get sick. It had been close when she started getting hot.

And while, yeah, I probably should have encouraged her to ration more, I had to admit that I’d enjoyed the fuck out of seeing her with her inhibitions lowered.

She’d been cute as fuck. Almost an animated version of herself. All bubbly and full of frenetic energy, bouncing around from person to person, telling them how pretty or handsome or interesting they were.

Hell, the woman had sat down to have a ‘serious heart-to-heart’ with the macaw, Mackie, about ‘letting go’ of his anger toward the Benny guy he was constantly cussing out.

And, yeah, it had been hot how openly she’d expressed her interest in me when she wasn’t so debilitated with her usual insecurities and anxieties that prevented her from easily expressing what she felt and thought.

As hot as she’d been, though, drunk was a no-no when it came to sweaty, naked times. Even if she wasn’t a stranger. Even if I was seeing her.

Maybe it would have been a little different if we’d been together for longer. Or if it wasn’t her first time being that drunk.

But I had to draw and then toe that line.

Even when she, in a short moment of wakefulness in the middle of the night, managed to reach back and remove her bra, then fall asleep flat on her back, tits out.


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