Sunday Morning (Sunday Morning #1) Read Online Jewel E. Ann

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Forbidden, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Sunday Morning Series by Jewel E. Ann
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
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Bottom line: there was no denying that I’d been up to no good on more than one occasion. I just didn’t know if I would feel more remorse for disappointing Matt or disobeying God. The effects of the former felt more immediate.

“I won’t kiss you until you ask me to,” Isaac whispered against my lips.

I was paralyzed, even though his hands were no longer gripping my wrists because they were undoing two buttons on my blouse. His lips trailed down my neck without kissing a single inch of my skin.

Neck.

Shoulder.

Chest.

And then his mouth hovered over the swell of my breast where his name hadn’t completely faded.

Isaac was marking me again, only this time, it was invisible. But sometimes, the things we couldn’t see made a deeper impact and the most permanent mark. It was an out-of-body experience. I couldn’t control my reaction to him any more than I could control the weather.

When my senses returned, I pressed my hands to his chest and made him take a step back while shaking my head. “This is a terrible idea.” I buttoned my shirt with shaky hands. “Your brother and our families are expecting a wedding in the future. I work for your parents. And your family owns the house that my family can’t afford every month. But that’s okay with your dad because he’s willing to overlook a few missed rent payments from his pastor and future daughter-in-law.” As much as it pained me, I lifted my gaze to his.

Isaac rubbed his lips together while tucking his fingers into his back pockets.

I cleared my throat. “I think you’ll live longer if you go back to torturing baby animals and smoking and stay as far away from me as possible. Your dad will be less likely to threaten you with a shotgun.”

He seemed to think about my words before the corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re not a calf. I’m not chasing you with a rope. Just the opposite. I’m trying to free you. You’re too big for this little town. You’re a wanderer with dreams too vast to walk a straight line. I’m not trying to steal you from God or Matty. Although, if you’re a Bible enthusiast, one of those two men loves you unconditionally, forgives all of your sins, and has given you the freedom to make your own decisions. The other one wants you barefoot and pregnant while he sprints after his own dreams. And for the record, that shotgun story is bullshit.” He reached past me and opened my door.

Isaac’s words, as far-fetched as they were, made my cheeks fill with heat. It was like a switch flipped. Isaac was right; I didn’t know how to walk a straight line. And I knew I would never let it get out of control, the way I knew my heart wasn’t ready to surrender to a life with Matt. But I couldn’t deny the power and confidence I felt around Isaac because he wanted me, and I wanted a part of him, even though I didn’t know what that was.

“What do you mean the shotgun story is BS?”

“Don’t worry about it. Get in.”

“If you didn’t want me to worry about it, you shouldn’t have said it.”

He gave me a challenging expression with a hint of a grin. “Get in the fucking truck.”

“Fine, Satan.” I smirked, climbing into his fucking truck.

As hard as I tried, my confidence paled in comparison to his. I was all talk while Isaac had real-life experience. That unavoidable fact was cemented into my brain as he adjusted himself.

“Fuck, Sunday Morning. You’re making my dick hard by calling me Satan. I might have to say a few extra prayers at church this Sunday.”

I fastened my seat belt, focusing on my hands instead of his crotch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I said. It was a weak comeback. I had a lot of practice to do, but we had all summer.

We. Had. All. Summer.

He shut the door and drove me home. We didn’t talk; instead, we listened to the radio, and I sang along. Isaac grinned, occasionally shooting me a sidelong glance, but I pretended not to see it.

“Don’t pull into the driveway,” I said as we approached my mailbox.

Isaac stopped the truck on the gravel road, just slightly off to the side, and shoved it into Park. “Are you playing my guitar tonight?”

“Yes.” I unbuckled.

“Good. Lock your bedroom door and play it naked.”

I swallowed hard, but that’s all the reaction—the satisfaction—I gave him. “And why is that?” I laughed it off, reaching for the door handle.

“Because I want to think about something of mine pressed to your naked body, giving you pleasure.”

Jesus … Sorry, God. I mean gee whiz.

“Is that so? Well, you can think of your brother between my legs when he gets home tomorrow.” I hopped out of the truck on said shaky legs, feigning confidence, shocked that those words came out of my mouth.


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