I Bet You’ll Be Mine Read Online Jenna Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
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She’s mine.

I need her.

I can’t leave here without knowing I’ve fixed this. From the moment she walked into my office that first day, I knew I had to have her, and that feeling hasn’t changed. All it’s done is amplify.

We need to put this craziness behind us so we can focus on how we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.

“Emergency at the dig site,” Ali repeats, nodding slowly. “I bet that’s what you told Kendall, isn’t it?”

“Kendall?” A pain stabs me in the chest. I’m going to have a heart attack. “Ali, no. I told you nothing happened between me and her—”

Ali steps quickly forward and throws her arms over my shoulders, gazes deeply into my eyes, and smiles.

“Relax, tiger,” she coos, her voice warm, soft and feminine. “I’m just messing with you. I believe you.”

The deepest feeling of relief flows through me like golden warmth, relaxing every one of my muscles. Smiling, I wrap my arms around her slim little waist and pull her to me.

“This is why I’ll always love you.” I smile.

“Always?” She smiles back.

“Always,” I reply, pulling her in for a kiss.

Epilogue

Zander

Five Years Later…

* * *

“So you’re sure they’ll be here by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow?” I ask the driver from the steel company, while eyeing my foreman, who is shaking his head, looking like he’s ready to walk off the job. In fact, he might have if I hadn’t come down here personally this afternoon when he called to take care of this delivery dispute.

“Absolutely,” the driver replies. “You’ve got my word.”

“Not good enough,” I reply. “Your screwup already put us two days behind schedule. Those girders don’t show up by 8:00 a.m. and my company never does business with you guys again. On top of that, I let everyone I know that you guys aren’t reliable and can’t be counted on to come through when you say you will, and I know a lot of people. You get me?”

The driver goes pale. “They’ll be here, Mr. Francis.”

“Good.” We shake on it, I nod to my foreman, get in the car, and head home. I wasn’t planning on having to personally show up here this afternoon, and if I don’t step on it, I’m going to be late for the homemade dinner my wife is making for me.

My wife, Ali. My soul, my heart, my reason for living.

The mother to my brand-new baby boy.

It’s been five years, and I’m still excited to see her as I drive home. Still so excited that I get that same feeling I used to get when I’d take her out during the first few months when we first started dating. People say those feelings fade after a while during a relationship, but not for Ali and me. If anything, those feelings have gotten stronger.

When I get back to our house, I see her through the window. She’s in the kitchen, wearing a beautiful new white dress that hugs her just right, finishing up whatever she decided to make for us tonight, which I know will be delicious as always.

She’s so incredible. I never asked her to cook for me or take care of me in any way; she just did it all on her own. Said she liked doing it—that it made her feel good. I guess it’s probably just like how it made me feel good to get her that new job at my buddy’s IT company, or how it made me feel good to pay for all four years of her college when I heard she was going to have to take out student loans.

We just love doing things for each other, so we do.

A sense of peace comes over me as I step through the front door and smell my wife’s cooking, hearing her messing around in the kitchen. I kick my shoes off and hang my coat.

“Honey, I’m home!” I call out, teasing as I walk in and am greeted with a beautiful view of her perfect back end as she’s bent over the stove. Somehow I think my wife got even more bootylicious after having our son, Tyler.

She turns, looks over her shoulder at me with those eyes, and in an instant, I’m already hard for her.

“Oh hey, babe,” she says in that sexy, teasing voice she knows I love. “I was just, ya know, making a little stew for when you got home from work.”

I come up behind her and run my hand up the back of her thigh to her ass. Christ, she looks so damn sexy tonight. The dress simply enhances the softness of her body, also plumping up her tits, which are practically falling out considering she’s wearing no bra underneath.

I know she gave birth not even a year ago, but I’m already getting the urge to get her pregnant again.


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