Make-Believe Match (Cherry Tree Harbor #3) Read Online Melanie Harlow

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Series: Cherry Tree Harbor Series by Melanie Harlow
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
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“Yes.” Fuck, she was beautiful.

“Tell me something good about you,” she begged.

I racked my brain and came up with something I thought she’d like. (Something true, by the way. I’m not that guy.) “I work with an organization that supports kids who’ve lost a parent,” I said quickly. “And I’m a counselor at their summer camp.”

“Yes!” she cried out, pulling me on top of her again. “Oh, my God, yes!”

Untethered by her words and hands and the way she moved, by the heat of her body and the way it clenched around me, by the illicit thrill of fucking a gorgeous stranger in the backseat on a hot summer night, I gave myself over to it, groaning through a long, surging climax until I was completely spent.

When my body had quieted, I lifted myself from her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. “You okay?”

“Fine. Better than fine.”

“Good.” I paused. “What was all that about a door?”

Her expression turned sheepish. “For the last six months, it’s been like there’s a party going on behind a closed door, but it’s locked. I can’t get in.”

“And tonight you got in?”

“Twice.” She smiled. “So what now?”

“That’s up to you. I’d be glad to take you home if you want. I’d bring you back to my place, but I’m staying with my dad, which might be slightly awkward, given the amount of noise I’m imagining we’ll make.”

“Was I loud?” She sounded a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

“Hey.” I tipped her chin up. “You were fucking perfect. My only regret is that I didn’t make you shatter the windows.”

“I have some windows back at my place,” she offered. “You could try again.”

I grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

Lexi decided to wait in the car while I went back into The Broken Spoke to tell my family I was leaving. After she got into the front seat, I made sure she locked the doors before hurrying back across the parking lot.

Inside the bar, I headed straight for the table. My brother Austin and his girlfriend, Veronica, were sitting there alone. “Hey,” I said, slightly out of breath. “I’m gonna head out. Can you drive Mabel and Ari home?”

Neither of them said anything at first. Then Veronica cleared her throat. “Sure,” she said, smiling as her eyes traveled over my hair and haphazardly tucked-in shirt. Hopefully, they wouldn’t notice the missing button.

“What the hell happened to you?” Austin asked. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“It’s hot in here.” I tried to sound casual.

“Your hair’s all messed up too,” he said, starting to laugh. “You look like you’ve been through a tornado.”

I tried to smooth it. “So you’ll drive them home?”

“I’ll drive them home. Where are you off to?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m leaving with the brunette I saw earlier at the bar.”

Austin’s brow lifted and he checked his watch. “That was barely an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well, some of us know how to close the deal faster than others.” I couldn’t resist—it was widely known in our family that Austin had wasted a bunch of time fighting his feelings for Veronica, whom he’d hired as a nanny at the start of the summer.

“Have fun.” Veronica gave me a wave. “We’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.”

And if either one of them said another word in the next five seconds, I couldn’t have told you, because I was already halfway to the door. My mind was racing with anticipation at the night ahead, at all the things I wanted to do to Lexi . . . wait, Lexi what? Had I gotten her last name? As I hurried back across the parking lot, I tried to remember. I didn’t want to ask her if she’d already told me—it seemed like a dick move to forget a girl’s last name because you were too busy trying to get your tongue in her mouth.

And other places.

Fuck, that was a good time, I thought, picking up my pace to nearly a run.

I licked my lips. I could still taste her.

The drive to her place took about twenty minutes. Other than giving me directions, she remained silent. I did too.

My hand on her thigh. My foot on the gas. My mind on the hours ahead.

I never did ask her last name.

In fact, we did very little talking at all that night.

I mean, words were exchanged, but they were hot and dirty. Quick and to the point. You want it? God. Yes. Harder. Fuck me. Right there. Don’t stop. Come for me.

She was a fucking riot in bed—uninhibited and adventuresome. Athletic and flexible. Quick to recover, keen to please, hungry for pleasure. At one point, she got on top, and I nearly lost my mind watching her move up and down my cock, her hands on my chest, her hair tumbling around her shoulders, her perfect breasts bouncing as she rode me to the finish. A goddamn dream.


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