Claiming Her, Craving More, Needing Him, Only His (Nighthawk Security #1-4) Read Online Tory Baker

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Nighthawk Security Series by Tory Baker
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110278 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
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That’s how we fall asleep, the lamp still on, our bodies sticking together, and not a care in the world.

TEN

BRIDGER

I wake up before Kellie. Something tells me she hasn’t been sleeping even before shit came to a head yesterday. Add our late-night activities, and I’d say my woman is clearly needing the sleep she’s getting.

The only reason I woke up myself was Legend. He started thumping his tail on the wood floors, and I knew if he kept at it, he’d either jump on the bed with us or wake Kellie with his need to be up himself. It wasn’t easy to disentangle my body from hers either.

I’m not sure how I held back last night. Knowing she wasn’t ready was probably a majority of the reason. The way she held still when she could have taken over, I could have been balls deep inside her hot body. Holding back was the right thing to do though.

I find my shorts that were haphazardly thrown last night. They somehow managed to land on the dresser that’s situated by the door leading out to the short hallway. I slide them on before snapping my fingers to get Legend to follow me, shutting the door behind us so Kellie can continue sleeping.

“Ready to go outside?” I ask Legend. I’m turning into fucking Travis talking to an animal that can’t respond. If he could see this shit now, he’d be laughing his ass off like I did to him when I was at his and Raelynn’s place and he was talking to her goats.

Legend is dancing on his hind legs while I open the sliding glass door that leads to the backyard. Even I have to admit he’s a cute fluff ball. As soon as he’s out, I leave the back door open in case he wants to come in while I make myself a cup of coffee. Kellie’s house may be a rental, but she put her own stamp on it with the way she’s got her knickknacks here and there, starting with pictures from her childhood with her parents standing on either side of her down to the comfortable furniture she has placed around the space. I look at the stacks of vinyl records she has placed her and there, the jackets in pristine condition. Though I’m not seeing a record player. I turn around, and bingo, there it is in the corner by a well-loved chair. It’s much more lived in than my place. I need to get a call out to Easton and see if he’s willing to make the flight out to Virginia from Alabama. We have an out-of-office company we use, but if we stay in Kellie’s place, she needs this place locked down like Fort Knox, and if he’s here, I’ll go ahead and have him beef up my alarm system along with the perimeter of my house. I don’t live on as much land as Slade or Travis, though I still live on two acres, wanting somewhat of a neighborhood feel but not wanting them right on top of me either.

The crunching of tires stops me from taking my first sip of coffee. “What the hell,” I mutter out loud, walking toward the door when a ball of fur barrels past me, running full force ahead.

“Slow down, boy,” I tell him, and he somehow stops before he nose-dives into the sidelight of the door.

I chuckle before moving the curtain to the side to see who pulled up. If it were anyone, I figure it would be Slade or Drake, but when I see that silly Rav 4 pull into the driveway, I know that it carries the Jennings women inside it.

“Fuck,” I grumble, then open the door, paste on a smile when all I really want to do is slam the door shut, slide back into Kellie’s bed, and ignore these crazy-ass women who I call my sisters.

“Don’t you even think about it.” My oldest sister steps out of the car after she abruptly put the vehicle in park.

“Well, don’t come crying to me when your transmission is on the floor,” I tell Peyton. My other two sisters, Aspen and Rowan, slide out of their seats, not nearly as hurried as Peyton. That girl has always been on a war path since the day she started walking, whereas my younger two sisters are way more relaxed and go with the flow.

“Whatever. Why didn’t you tell us what Kellie was going through and that you were staying with her?” She raises her voice.

“I don’t know, Pey. It could be because you’re being a nut job,” my baby sister Rowan says while coming up to me for a hug. She’s only twenty-one, and I have a soft spot for her. She always needed more attention. Our parents worked their asses off, which sometimes meant me pulling some extra brotherly duties.


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