Wicked Knight Read Online Sawyer Bennett (Wicked Horse Vegas #5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Wicked Horse Vegas Series by Sawyer Bennett
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
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Both understood my need not to discuss Michelle and the million potential reasons she decided to kill herself.

I think they both knew I had conversations with myself daily trying to figure it out. So they watched me carefully, ready to run in should I ever decide to fall apart.

I never did.

My father, of course, was a nonentity during the times I lost the two most important women in my life, but his support was never expected. He wasn’t that type of person.

The other thing my mom’s passing did was to remind me how precious my twin was. I had disconnected from her as well when Michelle died, and losing my mom shook me up.

While I knew I couldn’t open myself up to romantic love again, Christina’s heart was half my own. I’d needed to accept that in my life.

These past few years, we’ve grown closer than ever.

Which is why I’m on edge tonight. My dad will find some way to demean Christina, and I’m going to be poised to swoop in and defend her.

I arrive at Dad’s gated community. The guard doesn’t recognize me because I don’t come over this way much anymore. He wasn’t here when my mom was alive, but that means he could have worked here anywhere from three years to three days, and I wouldn’t know. After I give my name, he checks his list, after which he opens the gate for me.

When I pull into Dad’s large circular driveway, I see Christina has already arrived. She’s waiting outside of her little Honda that probably has a hundred thousand miles on it. I’d love to buy her a new car, but she’d never accept it.

Well, that’s not exactly true. She’d accept it, thank me, and then sell it to give the money to some pet project of hers.

I’m grinning at the thought of my do-gooder sister as I exit my vehicle.

Nodding toward the house, I tease, “Afraid to go in without me?”

She laughs and nods, reaching out to me for a hug. “Is it bad I feel like I’m walking into an ogre’s house?”

Laughing in return, I squeeze her hard. It’s funny but sad at the same time, especially since we grew up in this house. It’s also telling that we never really refer to this as “our” house anymore. Rather, we both say it’s our dad’s. It became so when Mom died, as she was the only piece of glue that made us a family unit.

“What do you think he wants?” she asks me as we pull apart.

“No clue,” I reply, taking her hand and marching up the wide stone steps to the double front door.

Our dad’s butler answers, regally inviting us in before announcing, “Mr. Knight is in the study, and he wishes you to join him there for drinks.”

Christina snickers, and I shoot her a chastising look. The butler is just doing as Dad expects him to do—to always give that air of superiority to all aspects of his life.

We continue to the study, its double doors already open to us.

Dad is standing near an empty fireplace hearth. As far as I know, it has never seen a fire, seeing as we live in the hot desert. Beside Dad is an incredibly gorgeous woman.

She seems to be the typical type of woman my dad has dated since our mother died. Much younger than him, probably in her late thirties or early forties, she’s a big-busted blond. While I can’t tell by looking at her, I’m guessing she’s not very smart. He doesn’t like women who know more than he does.

Our father turns to greet us, a big, warm smile on his face. He leaves the woman, rounds a couch that separates the room, and sticks a hand out to me. “Asher… so glad you could make it on short notice.”

After I shake it, I watch in astonishment as he turns to Christina and gives her a hug.

A hug.

I can’t ever remember seeing him do that. Christina’s face is utterly shocked as she widens her eyes at me and awkwardly pats our father’s back.

Pulling away, he smiles at Christina briefly before returning to the woman. Sliding next to her, he puts an arm around her waist. She smiles at us nervously.

“Asher… Christina… I want to introduce you to my fiancée, Mandy.”

“Fiancée?” I ask, not able to hide the censure in my voice. And not because she’s a young Barbie doll, but mainly because he was dating someone else just a few weeks ago. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

Mandy’s smile crumbles, and my dad’s expression turns cold. “That’s rude, Asher.”

“My apologies, but how can you marry someone you’ve probably known for five minutes?”

“That is none of your business,” he retorts icily.

With significant effort, I tear my eyes from my dad to Mandy. I give her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Mandy, but I’d really like to talk to my father alone if you don’t mind.”


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