Power House (Men of Action #2) Read Online Ahren Sanders

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Men of Action Series by Ahren Sanders
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
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“Every day, for the rest of my life, I get this. You wearing my ring, giving me all of you.”

Even with the enormity of the situation, my body responds, the desire returning.

I meet him thrust for thrust, the hunger building.

He pumps harder and faster, the shallow strokes driving me wild. My muscles contract in rhythm.

“Get there.”

“I’m with you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I fly apart. Raw passion and lust erupt, sending me soaring.

His cock thickens and pulses, the ring rubbing deliciously as another wave of ecstasy takes over.

He flexes and explodes, filling me with a guttural groan. “Jesus, fuck, baby.”

Empowerment overtakes my senses, knowing I can control how this powerhouse of a man responds.

Mine… it’s all mine.

37

Major

Bridal store my ass.

She’s going to pay for this stunt... slowly.

My cock stiffens as she folds out of her car, looking like a fucking bombshell. I want to smack the cocky grin off the valet’s face as he openly checks her out. She shoots him a mega-watt smile, flipping her hair while flashing my ring.

His hope is shattered, and I almost feel sorry for the poor sap.

The emotion is short-lived when she sashays past and his eyes stay glued to her ass.

She enters the lobby, searching around, and freezes when she spots me leaning against the elevator wall. Shock, surprise, irritation—all pass over her features as she struts my way.

I take the seconds to enjoy the view, knowing the end of the night will end with that dress on my floor. Hell, maybe in a few hours if I can’t make it through dinner.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wrong thing to say.”

“Don’t use that gruff, barbed tone on me.”

“I’m going to use more than my voice if you don’t march your fine ass back to your car and drive home.”

“You are supposed to be meeting with Sam and Drake to discuss financing our house.”

“And you are supposed to be stopping by the bridal store. This sure as shit isn’t Clyde’s.” My voice rises, passersby glancing our way.

Her cheeks redden and eyes glow a dark green.

“Major, watch it.”

“I’m holding it together pretty fucking well, considering where we are.”

“Go home then.”

I make a move, but she slips past, punching the elevator button.

“We aren’t doing this.”

“We aren’t. I am,” she sneers, provoking me.

“I don’t want that woman breathing your air. And you think you’re prancing in there alone?”

She gauges me, her gaze traveling up and down. “You look sexy-hot. Like panty-disintegrating-hot. It will make a better replay if you come with me.”

My irritation takes a hit and I rub the back of my neck, trying not to smile. She’s totally changed the game. “Jesus, Jewls.”

“Seriously, are you coming or not?”

We pile into the elevator with a family, unable to continue our conversation. When we get to our floor, I take her hand and twist the diamond ring as a reminder.

“I haven’t taken it off,” she whispers.

“It’s a reminder of my future when you do stupid shit like this.”

“Not stupid.”

She knocks loudly on the hotel door, straightening her shoulders and fluffing her hair.

Shit, she’s going for a full massacre.

The instant Darla opens the door, Jewls’ breath hitches.

Darla’s hand goes to her lip then her forehead, tracing the bandage holding the skin together. Her bruising is fading, but the physical reminders are very much there.

One look, and it’s clear the emotional reminders are ever-present as well.

“Oh, Darla.” Jewls’ hand darts out, freezing when Darla flinches.

“It’s getting better,” Darla murmurs.

“Can we come in?” Jewls asks softly.

Darla cracks the door, walking into the suite.

By the looks of it, the suite has more character than her condo. It reminds me of the girl I once knew. She liked to call it her organized mess.

“Didn’t expect company.” She gathers magazines and loose papers, making room on the small couch. “It’s not exactly the Presidential Suite at the Bellagio, but it beats returning to my condo.”

“We won’t interrupt you for long. I came to thank you.” The soothing voice is reserved for when Jewls works with troubled clients and cases.

I want to be pissed, knowing Darla is responsible for her situation.

But my chest swells for the selfless compassion Jewls is capable of.

Darla, who doesn’t have an iota of selflessness, is dumbfounded.

“Why?”

“Because what you told Major and the guys, helped find us.”

“I would have found you. I’ll always find you,” I grouse, earning a side-eye.

“Major obviously didn’t tell you the complete story,” Darla says cautiously.

“He did. I know you targeted Craig to humiliate him and the police department. You fabricated our involvement with the investigation. I also know you took the case pro-bono since Craig is broke, and you had a sexual relationship with him. All of it for revenge of being scorned.”

Darla stares at Jewls skeptically, and I brace for her to snap into a bitch. Instead, she drops onto the couch, hugging a pillow to her lap. “If you know all this, why would you ever show gratitude?”


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