False Start (The New York Nighthawks #8) Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Sports, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The New York Nighthawks Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
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“Baby, we can recreate that magic anytime you want,” I teased her, waggling my eyebrows and making her laugh.

When the valet pulled up with the car, he helped me load our luggage, and I shook his hand, leaving him a couple of hundreds in his palm. Then we headed back to the city.

“I should probably go home,” Dakota said softly as we drove over the GWB, her gaze out over the water.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“You’re probably sick of me and could use a break.” Her tone was teasing, but there was a vulnerability that I didn’t miss.

Her hand was already folded tightly into mine, so I gave it a squeeze. “If I could keep you all to myself, all the time, I would.”

The sun had set hours before, but that didn’t make the streets of New York City any less crowded, so Dakota fell asleep before we’d made it over the bridge. Which worked out perfectly because she didn’t question it when I drove right by the exit for Riverside Drive.

Thirty minutes later, I pulled into the garage beneath my building and up to the valet station. I handed the attendant the keys and instructed him to have our luggage sent up to the penthouse.

Dakota stirred when I opened her door and scooped her into my arms. “Are we home?” she asked groggily.

“Yes.”

She made a noncommittal sound as she laid her head on my chest and closed her eyes again. Her breathing became deep and even as she fell asleep once more.

The elevator rose swiftly and silently, then opened into my foyer. I carried Dakota up the steps to the master suite. I drew back the comforter, then gently laid her on the bed and removed her shoes before kicking off mine and padding over to the enormous walk-in closet.

I smiled in satisfaction when I saw all her clothing hanging up and her girly shit on the shelves. The closet never looked better.

Quietly, I made my way back to the foyer and waited for our luggage. Since it was a private lift, it would stay at the top until I sent it down or gave permission for the concierge to call it. But I figured I might as well get our things from the trip unpacked as well.

Once it arrived, I rolled the suitcases back to the bedroom and into the closet, quickly putting it wherever I could find a space. Then I grabbed a silky, dark-red nightie that matched her hair color and went back to bed.

Dakota was clearly exhausted because she didn’t wake up or even make a peep as I changed her out of her sundress. I removed her bra and panties, then drank in the sight of her sun-kissed skin, her full, sexy tits, the gentle slope of her belly, and the delicious swell of her hips. It was tempting to leave her naked, but I knew she was exhausted, and it was unlikely I’d be able to keep any self-control if we didn’t have even a small barrier between us. So I slipped the short nightgown over her head and pulled it down, then groaned. She looked almost as fuckable in the nightie as she did naked.

Sucking in a deep breath, I steeled myself against the onslaught of desire and walked around to the other side of the bed. Then I ditched my clothes and crawled under the covers. Dakota immediately rolled toward me, and I wrapped myself around her.

I savored the thought that this was our normal now. How did I get so fucking lucky?

Dakota was still sound asleep when I woke up the next morning. It was just after seven, but that was sleeping in for me, so I gingerly got out of bed so I wouldn’t wake her.

I was showered and dressed in a pair of athletic shorts, making omelets when she appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Good morning, baby,” I said to her as she descended and walked straight into my open arms.

“Hi,” she replied with a sleepy smile.

Dropping my head down, I captured her lips and tasted her sweetness. I would definitely be having her for a second breakfast later.

“I guess you decided not to take me home? Good thing I still had some pajamas intact after you ripped so many of them while we were gone.” Her tone was cheeky, and she winked as she stared up at me.

“I did take you home,” I informed her cagily. “And don’t expect me to stop tearing off those sexy negligees now that we’re here.”

Her expression turned confused, and she glanced around. “You took me home and then brought me back to your place?”

Stop being a pussy, Yarrow.

I shut off the stove, linked our fingers together, and guided her back up to our bedroom and over to the closet. “You are home,” I said as I flipped on the light.


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