Dream Chaser (Dream Team #2) Read Online Kristen Ashley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Dream Team Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
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Did I want that?

Free wall-skimming lessons?

“That’d be awesome, Tack,” I told him.

“Got it. Let you know.”

Then he hung up on me.

Totally loved the Chaos boys.

At that point, since I was at a crossroads with what was next, and I needed to sit down with Boone now that we had a lot of “nexts” that could happen what with Brett’s deliveries, and we needed to make a plan on how to tackle it, Mag took me home. This after we swung by my place for me to spend half an hour watering my plants and to get some important provisions.

The “home” Mag took me to (after mine) was Boone’s place, where he and I spent the vast majority of our time.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like my pad.

It was that he did not like my kitchen and refused to cook in it unless I let him yank out the carpet.

I totally heard him about the carpet.

But I didn’t need two home improvement projects, and frankly, I preferred Boone’s pad because, first, it was awesome, and second, he had fantastic stoneware and third, no one had been murdered at his back door and not only because he didn’t have a back door.

And now Boone was home, Mag was off with a “Later” to both of us, and time was nigh for me to give Boone my version of a gift.

Roses were awesome.

But I was hoping to knock his socks off with what I had in mind.

So after I gave him a welcome home kiss and a careful once over to see he wasn’t worn out by his day, and he asked me if I was down with homemade pizza for dinner (I so was, just…later), he got out the bread machine (yes, Boone had a bread machine, was my guy awesome or what?) and I got my ass in the bathroom.

This was a risk.

It wasn’t my role to instigate this.

But my experience was, if I wanted to play, I went out and found someone who also wanted to play, so the guesswork of me being in the mood to play was unnecessary.

I didn’t know how that went when your man was your Dom.

But we were going to see.

And how we were going to see was me walking out of the bathroom in a super-tight, plaid pencil skirt that hit me about three inches above the knee, a cap-sleeved white blouse, buttoned all the way up to the throat, my hair pulled up in a sexy-school-marm bun, clear-lensed black-rimmed glasses on my nose, and four-inch, spike-heeled, patent-red pumps on my feet.

I could hear some sort of kitchen apparatus whirring.

Boone had changed from work outfit of cargos, boots, and skintight tee to home outfit of jeans, a more worn skintight tee, and at a guess from experience, bare feet.

He was doing something at the counter, but when he heard the bathroom door open, his head came up, his gaze locked on me, and his body stilled entirely.

I walked efficiently to him, my heels ticking on his wood floors.

He turned only his head to watch as I came to his side.

I stood there and said reprovingly, “Mr. Sadler, we need to talk about your grades.”

Boone stared at me.

I stared back, my heart pounding.

Boone stared at me more.

Okay, shit.

So, answer: not my place to instigate.

Then I was bent over the counter, one of Boone’s hands in my back, the other one going up my skirt.

Oh yeah.

It was a tight fit, but he was clearly determined and managed to get his hand between my legs and run his fingers through the swollen lips of my pussy.

“Wet,” he whispered.

He flicked my clit.

My hips jerked.

Obviously, I wasn’t wearing underwear.

Bad teacher.

“Kathryn, this isn’t the way we do things,” he growled.

Uh-oh.

Maybe I read his reaction wrong.

He stroked my clit.

But that felt really right.

“Teacher’s gonna get a lesson,” he murmured.

Yes.

My legs started trembling.

“Stay where you are,” Boone ordered before he took his hand off my back, his other from between my legs, and then my skirt was yanked forcefully up over my hips.

I thought I heard it tear.

I definitely heard my whimper.

Boone ran a hand over my ass.

“Unless I tell you to keep your legs tight, you open for me, Kathryn,” Boone instructed.

I opened my legs.

He slid his hand back between and cupped my sex.

I held still and waited.

He didn’t move.

I held still and waited some more.

He slid his hand back, and quick as a flash, it landed on my ass with a delicious sting, making my hips jerk and my legs lock.

I closed my eyes slowly.

Yes.

Let the lesson begin.

* * *

We were in bed.

I was reverse cowgirl, leashed, the silk wrapped around Boone’s fist, and he’d just finished guiding me riding him to the orgasm he let me have, and continue riding him to his.

He’d spanked me bent over the counter.

Then he’d lifted me on it, shoving me down to my back, and eaten me on it.


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