Meant for Stone (Meant For #1) Read Online Natasha Madison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Sports Tags Authors: Series: Meant For Series by Natasha Madison
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
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“What if I miss one of your important games because I have to be in court or something?” I’m pulling at the bottom of the barrel because now talking to him, laying things out, it’s not as bad as it is in my head.

“I’m not asking you to give up anything in your life. I’m just asking you to share it with me.”

“What if I can’t?” I admit to him. “What if I fall in love with you, and then I hurt you by doing something I don’t even know that I’m doing?”

“You mean like this.” He points at him and then at me. “I like you, Ryleigh, a lot.”

“Well, I like you too, Stone,” I finally admit.

“Don’t say but.” He holds his hand up. “Nothing good comes after but.” I can’t help but laugh at that. “Can we at least try?” He takes another step to me, putting his hands on my hips, and when I don’t stop him, he pulls me to him. “I’m asking you to try with me. I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”

“Oh, good God,” I groan, but with him here in front of me, in his arms, I feel a peace I’ve never felt before.

“Does that mean yes?” He puts his forehead on mine. “Will you date me?”

“I swear to everything that is holy, if you pull out a promise ring, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

“I don’t have a promise ring on me.” He rubs his nose with mine. “But⁠—”

“Nothing good comes after but.” I use his words against him, and I’m about to say something else, but I stop when his mouth crashes on mine. I get up on my tippy-toes, wrapping my arms around him. His tongue slides into my mouth, and he picks me up, my legs wrapping around his waist.

He lets go of my lips, and I bury my face in his neck, kissing him once before looking at him. “You wearing my shirt?” he asks with a smirk, his arms holding me tight around my waist.

“It’s comfy,” I reply, burying my face again in his neck so he won’t see my cheeks get pink from embarrassment.

“Is it?” He squeezes me to him.

“It is,” I mumble as he starts moving to the couch and sitting down with me still attached to him.

“Did you eat?”

I sit up in his lap. “What did you have in mind?” I wiggle my eyebrows.

He shakes his head, and I can’t stop the smile from filling my face, even if I wanted to. “I meant food. I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I did have snacks on the plane.”

“When do you leave?” I ask him as I put my hands on his pecs.

“Tomorrow morning at ten. Figured I’d get you off to work and then take off.”

“So I get you the whole night?” I try not to make it seem like I’m too happy.

“You get me the whole night and some of the morning,” he confirms, “but I’m good to just chill here while you work.” God, this man. This fucking man. “Why don’t you finish your work while I order food?”

“I still can’t believe you got on a plane.” I shake my head. “How did you get a flight so fast?”

“Private,” he replies, and I gawk at him.

“You chartered a private plane to come see me?” The thought alone is unthinkable.

“What else was I supposed to do? You weren’t speaking to me.” His hands rub up and down my sides. “And my parents sort of told me I needed to tell you how I felt.”

“Your parents?” My voice comes out in a shriek. “You told your parents?”

“Not really. I told them I met a girl in Chicago,” he tells his story, “then my mother was like ‘Ryleigh lives in Chicago’ and, well, the rest is history.”

“This could be very, very bad—” I start to say, but he shuts me up by kissing me. I suddenly forget what I was going to say and instead just go with the kiss. He lets me go after that so I can finish up my work. We eat way too fast, and when he steps into the shower, I’m right behind him, but not for long. I drop to my knees, taking him down my throat, where he then returns the favor. We don’t even make it to the bed. He fucks me on my counter, then cleans me up. When we fall into bed, he’s pulling me to him, and for the first time in three nights, I don’t go to bed with a heavy heart. I don’t go to bed fighting off tears. I don’t go to bed wishing he was here because he is.

The next day, he wakes me up by sliding into me while he whispers, “Good morning, gorgeous.” I don’t even open my eyes. I just hitch my legs over his hips and go with it. It’s fast, it’s hard, and it’s fucking perfect.


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