Contempt (Sin City Salvation #3) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
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I nod, and he hands it to me. When I bring it to my lips, I’m hyperaware it was just on his, and I still remember what those lips tasted like. I close my eyes and inhale, realizing I know exactly what to do. This isn’t the first time I’ve smoked, either.

The weed soaks into my veins, and the high hits me hard and fast. I don’t even know how. I just know that in the space of a few minutes, I’ve smoked the whole joint myself. My bones feel heavy in the chair when Madden heads to the living room.

I’m not sure what to do with myself, so I force myself up to join him on the couch. He pulls his guitar into his lap and drags his large fingers over the strings while I watch him curiously. He closes his eyes and plays a familiar tune. At least it feels that way, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard it.

When I notice my guitar on the coffee table, warmth floods my chest. I feel like we’ve been apart for so long, and I get overly emotional when I pick her back up and cradle her against me. This guitar might be a possession to anyone else, but it’s one of the very few constants in my life. The fact that I thought it was gone forever weighed heavy on me, so I can’t help strumming her and bringing her back to life.

Madden stops playing and opens his eyes to look at me, and something passes between us. An electrical charge. A shock paddle to the heart. I don’t know. I just know I never want him to stop looking at me like that.

I’m not even aware of the song I’m playing until he joins in, opening up the lyrics. He has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard. It shocks me so much my fingers almost fumble, but I catch myself as his lip barely tips up at the corner.

Did he almost just smile?

I can’t concentrate or make sense of all these weird feelings caught in my chest. So I focus on the lyrics, singing along with him like we’ve done this a thousand times before. Time stretches on, and nothing else exists in this space. It’s just me, him, and the music. And when it’s over, it feels like my heart is shattered, but I can’t figure out why.

I set my guitar aside and study his profile as he switches up the tune.

“Why does that sound so familiar?” I ask.

He swallows, and something has changed. A tension that didn’t exist a minute ago thickens the air. I think the song brought up memories for him, but I need him to confirm it.

“Because it is.”

My pulse thrashes in my ears as I reach out to touch the place on his forearm where I hurt him. The muscles stiffen as I brush my fingers over the healing wound.

“I’m sorry for this,” I choke out.

Our eyes lock, and all the oxygen escapes my lungs as I get lost in the depths of his. He’s so dangerously captivating, it scares me. I barely know anything about this man, but I feel drawn to him in ways I shouldn’t. And for a second, I find myself questioning if I could be his ghost, if for no other reason than I want a connection to him. But that still wouldn’t make sense. If I was her, and I was engaged to his brother, then I shouldn’t feel this way with him.

“This can’t happen,” he murmurs as my fingers continue to graze his arm.

“What can’t happen?” A shiver moves through me as I realize the distance between us has narrowed.

Did he lean in, or did I?

He sets his guitar aside and grabs my face, squeezing it between his fingers as if to keep me there. But he’s the one who moves, dipping his head closer to mine until his lips are only a breath away.

“You’re fucking poison,” he growls.

His cruelty doesn’t break the spell he’s cast on me, and when I pry his hand off my jaw, he grunts in surprise when I kiss him. That tiny spark between us ignites a flame, and the room spins around me as I submit to the primal urge to feel him. My fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans into my mouth as I invade his parted lips, crawling onto his lap and shoving his head back so I can devour him. It isn’t logical. It’s instinctual. And I want more. I need so much more. I grind my hips down onto his erection, rubbing against his heat like a feral animal. My fingers are already moving toward the hem of his shirt when he traps my wrists between his hands and retreats from my lips, only to snare me with his gaze.


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