Love At First Taste (Love Comes First #3) Read Online Olivia T. Turner

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Love Comes First Series by Olivia T. Turner
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Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
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“You’re amazing,” I say as she attaches it to the window and tosses it out.

“Last one in is a rotten egg.” She grins and I gasp as she jumps out. I hear the splash before I make it to the window and there she is, swimming down below with a smile on her face. “It feels great!”

This woman is full of surprises. I jump out the window and land into the warm Caribbean water next to her. The heat and sweat of our lovemaking wash away and I’m left with an invigorated feeling of pure bliss.

“You’re crazy,” I say as she swims over. She kisses me on the lips and laughs as she floats on her back, her big tits floating out of the water.

“We can always swim around to the landing if the ladder is too hard to climb up. The yacht is parked here for the night anyway. The anchor is right—”

Her eyes widen as she looks up at the yacht.

“Oh, shit!”

A rumbling sound fills the air and it starts getting louder and louder as Aubrey panics. “Get to the ladder!”

We both start swimming in a frantic front crawl to the ladder, but when we raise our heads, there’s nothing there. The water pushes us away with a strong wave as the yacht leaves.

“We were supposed to be docked there all night!” she screeches as we tread water.

The yacht gets further and further away very quickly, leaving us floating in the ocean, both completely naked.

The shuttle boat is attached to the landing deck and we can see all the guys at the bar while Julie makes them drinks.

“Hey!” we both holler as we wave our hands. “Come back!”

They don’t hear us over the music and within seconds, the yacht is gone.

“What are we going to do?” Aubrey asks in a panic. We’re far out from the dock, but not too far from the lights over there. It’s definitely swimmable.

“Are you able to swim to that shoreline?” I ask. I’m ready to carry this girl across the ocean if I have to.

“My grandparents lived on a lake, so I’m a decent swimmer,” she says. “I can do it.”

“Okay,” I say with a firm nod. “Let’s go. Nice and calmly.”

We each take a deep breath to calm our nerves and start swimming.

Chapter Eight

Barbara

“How’s the food?” our nice waiter asks. “Is it to your enjoyment?”

I look down at my pasta with fresh jumbo shrimp and back up with a smile. “It’s delicious!”

This whole trip has been wonderful. Harold and I are celebrating our fiftieth wedding anniversary and I feel as in love as I was on our honeymoon all those years ago.

I was so surprised when he told me we were going to the Bahamas. He must have been saving money for the past five years without me knowing.

“More wine?” the waiter asks as he picks up our bottle.

“Yes, please,” Harold says with a smile.

He starts pouring it when there’s a sudden commotion in the water. The beautiful restaurant is right on the shoreline and we have the best table in the house.

“What the hell?” the waiter says with a gasp as he stares at the shapes climbing out of the darkness. He pours our white wine onto Harold’s pasta as we stare in shock at two naked people pulling themselves onto the patio. They stand up and look around with a look of panic on their faces.

It’s a young couple. They’re huffing out deep breaths and trying to cover their wet private parts as everyone on the patio stares at them in shock.

The woman with the curly blonde hair has one hand over her breasts and the other between her legs. I smack Harold whose eyes are practically popping out of his head.

But I should talk. I can’t get enough of the gorgeous man’s huge muscular body.

My mouth drops as he comes right up to our table with a killer smile on his face.

“Can you do me a favor?” he asks as he grabs the tablecloth. “Can you hold those plates up? Great. And pick up the glasses?”

The waiter is holding our plates as Harold and I pick up our wine and water glasses.

The man yanks the tablecloth off our table like a third-rate magician. The salt and pepper shakers, our cutlery, and the centerpiece crash to the floor as he turns back to the girl and wraps our tablecloth around her.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a wince. He eyes our waiter up and down and then starts untying his apron. “I just need to borrow this.”

Our waiter is standing there in shock, holding our plates as the man takes his apron off him and ties it around his own muscular body.

“Thank you,” the man says as he gives me a wink. “Enjoy your meal.”

Everyone on the patio stares at them in shock as they race out of the restaurant on bare feet, leaving wet footprints on the floor.


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