Outside the Lines Read Online Anne Malcom (Sons of Templar MC #2.5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 38104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
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He kissed me with a ferocity that healed all the wounds I’d exposed to him. That filled me up so completely after the beauty of his words. He ran his hands down my hips, cocking my leg so it wrapped around me.

“You ever take anyone raw, babe?” he asked tightly, poised at my entrance.

I shook my head, unable to speak.

“Neither have I, never. Told myself the only one I’d take with nothing in between us, would be the woman who I intended to keep in my bed forever,” he whispered, roughly, plunging into me on his last word.

I cried out, his words, his beautiful, heart-warming words, along with the intensity of his intrusion overwhelmed me.

He took me, hard but slow, every stroke a promise, a vow. His mouth lightly brushed mine while his eyes seemed to capture my soul and brand it with his claim.

“I love you,” I whispered, unable to hold it in. I needed to say it, in this beautiful moment, had to complete it.

His body froze, he hovered over my mouth. “Think I loved you the first moment I saw you, babe. Realized it the moment you called me honey at four am outside the clubhouse,” he told me thrusting into me once more.

His mouth captured mine, muffling the sounds of my climax. I felt him empty himself inside me, as I milked his release out of me. He stayed on top of me, inside me, watching me. Saying everything and nothing at the same time. I winced slightly at the emptiness as he gently pulled out of me. He kissed my nose.

“Be right back,” he promised.

I watched his muscled back walk through to his ensuite, taking a moment to appreciate the firm and tight ass that I could totally stare at for days. That man, with the great ass and great everything else. That man loved me. Me. The real me and his love was a promise of the life I’d always hoped for.

He returned and gently cleaned me with a washcloth, the intimacy and tenderness of the moment jarring me. With that taken care of, he gathered me in his arms. We lay quietly, for once I was content with silence. I’d said enough tonight.

“Your grandmother,” Hansen said finally, his voice hard. “She’s the one you visit every Saturday?”

I nodded. He knew I visited a relative every Saturday, as I had for the past two weeks we’d been together, but since I hadn’t told him the whole gory story until before, I didn’t really elaborate. Jagger and Arianne were the only ones who knew about her.

“Why?” he asked. “I imagine that bitch doesn’t appreciate nor deserve those visits, nor do I miss the fact your smile’s slightly dimmer after them. So why?”

Nothing got past him. He had silently watched me the past two Saturdays. It took me a while to shake off the insults, the barbs that accumulate in one hour’s visit. So I wasn’t surprised he noticed.

I shrugged. “She’s got no one else. She’s my only family at the end of the day, and she’s the last connection I’ve got with my mom. I just feel that I should, you know? That I’d be a bad person if I didn’t,” I added.

Hansen paused. “You’ve got a family, babe,” he said finally. “One you’ve chosen, one who’s got your back no matter what. Blood doesn’t mean shit when that connection turns rancid. Blood is what ties you together when there’s nothing else, nothing good left. The club, that’s stronger than that, because that’s the family you choose, the one where you belong,” he told me. “You’re not a bad person, shit babe, enduring the shit she put you through and still going to visit the old bat? They should consider you for sainthood.” His voice was slightly teasing but there was something more serious was underneath. “I don’t want you going ‘cause anything that dims that beautiful smile is something I want to get you away from… protect you from. It’s your choice, though, babe. I’ll be here, no matter what.”

I smiled at him and I smiled on the inside. No, beamed. Every part of me.

“I’m not moving in,” I declared firmly.

Hansen’s face hardened. “Why the fuck not?”

I held my hands out, splattering spaghetti sauce unwillingly as I did so. Some landed on the wall, luckily Hansen’s eyes were on me and not on the fact I was ruining the furniture. I decided to act natural. Natural equaled slightly pissed at this moment. “Um, because it’s way too fast. The standard rules of dating constitute at least six months go by before we even consider cohabitation,” I informed him, moving my attention back to the dinner I was cooking. Or maybe ruining. I lived on takeout and peanut butter usually. I was going for domestic goddess at this moment. I think I was hurtling toward domestic fuckup.

It was almost a week after the exchange of the ‘I love you’s.’ I’d been floating on a cloud since then. I didn’t give a fuck how cheesy that sounded, I was. Well, until Hansen had declared, yes declared, I was moving in.

“Clue in babe, we’re nothing close to normal,” he clipped moving to stand beside me. His hand moved to jerk my chin toward him. “You said yourself, you don’t color between the lines. Why do you give a fuck about what we’re supposed to do? Do what you want to do. I want you in my house. Want you to make it ours. Want to see your stupid elf shit on the walls, have your girly cushions on my sofa. I want you,” he said fiercely.

“You’ve got me,” I whispered.

He searched my eyes. “Well, move the fuck in,” he ordered.

“Okay,” I said automatically. Shit. I didn’t even mean to agree. He hypnotized me. Used LOTR against me.

He let go of my chin. “Good,” he muttered, before moving to answer his cell phone which had cut off my belated protests.

“What,” he greeted. Yes, he answered his phone with the word ‘what’—men.


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