Wicked Prince (New Orleans Malones #3) Read Online Laylah Roberts

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Series: New Orleans Malones Series by Laylah Roberts

Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)

He’d never met a woman he couldn’t charm . . . until her . . .

He might be the youngest brother in a powerful crime family, but Maxim Malone had never taken life too seriously. Gorgeous, sexy, and charming, he was used to getting whatever he wanted.
Until her.

Aston Symonds.
Sweet. Serious. Smart. She needed him to lighten her up. To make her laugh. To show her that life could be fun.
Turns out Aston needed more than that from him.

She needed his protection.
Because Aston had secrets that could destroy her.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************


Aston pushed herself until her lungs burned.

More! More!

Until the need for air consumed her.

Just a bit longer. You can do it!

Popping her head out of the water, she gasped for air. She rolled onto her back, trying to calm her breathing. She was probably pushing herself too far, but she needed her muscles to burn. She needed to tire herself out so that she might have a chance of quieting her mind and actually getting some sleep tonight.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten more than a few hours of sleep at a time. Too long ago.

When her breathing had slowed, she started swimming lengths of the pool.

Up. Down.

Until exhaustion made her sluggish and she didn’t think she could go any farther.

Finished, she grasped hold of the pool’s edge and drew herself up so her chest was out of the water and resting on the concrete.

A pair of bare feet settled in front of her face.

She stiffened.

It was ten at night and usually quiet in the pool at this time. Which was just the way she liked it.

“You know that you’re not actually supposed to swim until you nearly pass out, right?” a deep voice asked.

They were good-looking feet. Usually, feet were pretty ugly. Too bony or too hairy. Maybe they had dry heels or toe fungus or overgrown toe nails.

But these feet . . . well, they were kind of sexy.

Then the feet disappeared, and the guy sat next to her. So now she was staring at a thigh, and if she moved her head a bit, some abs.

Holy heck.

Who could sit like that and not have a bit of a fat roll? This guy was fit.

You need to move, Aston.

She shouldn’t be lying here like this, half dead on the side of the pool. It wasn’t safe. This guy could do anything to her. She was as helpless as a babe.



She’d been living in New Orleans for two months now and had let her guard down. She’d started feeling safe.

But Aston knew better than anyone that she should never be careless with her safety.

And so she pushed away from the edge, staring up at the man looking down at her.


How was it possible for someone to be this gorgeous? She likely looked like a wreck. Her normally pale-blonde had been dyed a dark brown. Nothing that would stand out, she wanted to blend in. She also colored her eyebrows. And she knew that the color didn’t suit her complexion. So she looked pale and wrung out.

But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t here to draw attention to herself. All she wanted was to blend in. To be unnoticed.

So why the heck was this gorgeous man coming over to talk to her?

His dark hair was longer on the top and shaved around the sides. He had a sleeve of tattoos down his right arm and over his right pec. She knew this because all he was wearing was a pair of navy blue swimming trunks.

His facial hair was short, which only added to his appeal. Which was nuts because she’d never been attracted to men with facial hair before.

Have you ever been attracted to any men before?

No. Which is what made these feelings even more disturbing.

She needed to get out of the pool.

She just had to find the energy.

“Would you like me to wait so you can get your phone?” he asked.


“So you can take a photo.” A wicked grin lit up his face and his eyes danced.

What was so amusing? Was he . . . laughing at her?

She could feel her defensiveness rising. She hated being the butt of the joke. Her brothers had done that to her constantly.

And they’d been mean about it.

She knew her skin was too thin, that she was likely reading too much into it, but she couldn’t help the small sting of hurt.

“And why would I want a photo of you?”

“Ow. Ouch.” Instead of looking insulted, his grin widened as he held a hand to his chest. “That hurts. And here I thought you were checking me out.”

She totally had been, but she’d never admit it.

“I just zoned out and you happened to be in my line of sight.”

His eyes narrowed as he grew serious. She tensed. Aston was starting to get cold, but she didn’t want to leave the pool with him sitting there.

She didn’t need to give him more ammo to laugh at her.

Not all men are like your brothers and their friends.

She knew that. Deep down.

But she was utterly drained and her defenses were down.

This was why she never swum to the point of exhaustion when there were other people around. She couldn’t keep her guard up in this state.

“This isn’t a good time for you to swim,” he told her.


Who was he to tell her when she could swim?

“This facility is open twenty-four-hours, and I’ve paid my dues just like you. I can swim here whenever I like.”