Between Her Pages – Book of Love Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Novella Tags Authors: Nichole Rose Advertisement

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My neighbor is a problem. A big fucking problem. She's the sexiest little thing I've ever seen, with the biggest green eyes and longest legs.

I've got a thesis to finish. Instead, I spend half my time fantasizing about wrapping her legs around my waist and driving into her until the only word she remembers is my name.

I spend just as much time watching her come and go. I should be reading Aeschylus. Instead, I'm reading smut so filthy I need a priest.

It's her fault. I saw her through the window while I was downtown, and I couldn't resist going into the bookstore. I didn't mean to make her nervous, but I saw it in her eyes. She's leery of me, suspicious.

I know damn well that showing up at the store again isn't going to do me any favors, but that isn't going to stop me, either. I want to see her again. Since she's adamantly refused to be caught outside for the last few days, the bookstore is my only option.

The drive downtown is quick. Santa Maria is a gorgeous little town, nestled between rolling hills and miles of vineyards, with ranches scattered all over. It's the exact kind of quiet I need to finish my thesis. At least, it was until I moved in next to a goddess.

I park out front of the bookstore, smirking when I see Olive's car parked halfway in a space in the parking lot. She's here again. Good.

I pocket the keys and hop out, striding for the doors.

She's standing in front of the counter with her back to the door, gesturing wildly. Whatever she's ranting about has her so riled up that she doesn't even hear the bell ding when I step inside.

I stop just inside the doorway, watching her.

"You cannot marry Heathcliff, Sarah," she growls. "And Darcy? You'd kill Darcy? You have got to get your literary priorities right."

"Fine," Sarah says. "How would you do it?"

"Easiest answer ever," she says. "Fuck Rochester. Marry Darcy. Kill Heathcliff."

My brows pull together, something unfamiliar surging through me. It's wild and possessive, jealous as hell at the thought of her with anyone who isn't me.

Jesus Christ.

"I prefer it the other way," I growl.

"Shit!" she squeals, spinning around so fast she stumbles. Her eyes land on me, growing comically wide. "Mason."

"Hey, Rebel." I take a step toward her, smirking. "We need to stop meeting like this."

"Oh, really?" She crosses her arms over her chest, pushing her tits up in her top. "So, you aren't here just to run into me?"

I pretend I don't know what the fuck she's talking about. "No? This is still a bookstore, right?"

"It is," Sarah calls, her voice soft.

"That's what I thought." I nod, my gaze locked with Olive's. "I came for the scintillating conversation and a new read."

"Oh, really?" It's fucking cute how suspicious she is. "Fine, then. Since you're so fascinated by our scintillating conversation, it's your turn. Fuck, Marry, Kill, Darcy, Heathcliff, Rochester. Go."

I don't think she expects me to know who any of the three are, but a motherfucker can read. "Easy. I'm killing Darcy. He's boring as fuck." The way she squeaks indignantly is worth it. "I'm fucking Rochester because he seems like he probably knows what the fuck he's doing. And I guess I'm marrying Heathcliff. Even villains deserve love, Rebel."

"See!" Sarah cries, beaming from behind the counter like I just vindicated her. "I told you that my way was the only right way."

"You're both going to literary hell," Olive splutters, her cheeks pink. "Both of you. Heathcliff was cruel."

"Heathcliff was a product of his upbringing," I chuckle, striding across the store until I'm in front of her. "You're just mad because you're wrong. That's okay, though." I tap her on the nose. "We forgive you."

I want to trace her blush, see how far down her curvy body it extends. Instead, I shove my hands behind my back, out of the danger zone. I don't know what it is about this girl, but she drives me wild. She has ever since she told me that she was stealing mail.

She cocks her head to the side, studying me intently. "What were you doing last night?"

"What?"

"What were you doing last night?"

A memory of me jerking off to the image of her washing dishes in a sports bra flashes through my mind. "Nothing much. Why?"

"There were weird noises coming from your place."

I freeze, panic filtering through my mind. Jesus Christ. There's no way she heard me. No fucking way. Except…the look on her face says she did.

"No idea," I lie through my teeth. "Could have been the TV."

"Right," she says, not buying my bullshit for a second.

I'm going to kill Troy for not warning me that Aunt Letty had paper-thin walls and a hot-as-fuck neighbor.

"Well, I have to go," she says, taking a step away from me. "I have to work."


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