Tangled by Emma Chase

Tangled by Emma Chase

Author:Emma Chase [Chase, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Adult
ISBN: 9781623420147
Publisher: Omnific Publishing
Published: 2013-05-20T08:00:00+00:00

Every healthy man in the world wakes up with a stiffy. A fatty. Morning wood. I’m sure there’s some medical explanation for the phenomenon, but I just like to think of it as a little present from God.

A chance to begin the day with your best dick forward.

I can’t remember the last time I slept next to a woman. Waking up beside one, however, definitely has its benefits. And I’m prepared to take full advantage of them.

With my eyes still closed, I roll over and search for Kate. I plan on teasing her awake before giving her a “good morning” from behind. It’s the only acceptable wakeup call, in my book. But as my hand slides over the sheets, it finds only empty space where she’s supposed to be. I open my eyes, sit up, and look around. There’s no sign of her.


I listen for movement in the bathroom or the sound of running water from the shower. But there’s only silence. Deafening, isn’t it?

Where’d she go?

My heart rate kicks up a notch at the thought that she snuck out while I was asleep. It’s a move I’ve performed myself—on several occasions—but one I’d never expect from Kate.

I’m just about to get out of bed when she appears in the doorway. Her hair’s pulled up in one of those elastic bands that women always seem to pull out of thin air. She’s wearing a gray Columbia T-shirt—my gray Columbia T-shirt—and I’m momentarily fascinated by the way her tits jiggle beneath the lettering as she walks.

Kate sets the tray she’s carrying on the bedside table. “Good morning.”

I pout. “It could’ve been. Why’d you get up?”

She laughs. “I’m starving. My stomach was growling like a caged troll. I was going to cook breakfast for us, but the only thing I could find in your kitchen was cereal.”

Cereal is the perfect food. I could eat it at every meal. And not the healthy bran-and-oats shit your parents shoved down your throat. I only go for the good stuff: Lucky Charms, Fruity Pebbles, Cookie Crisp. My cabinet is a veritable smorgasbord of highly sugared puffed wheat.

I shrug. “I order out a lot.”

She hands me a bowl. Apple Jacks—good choice. Between bites, Kate says, “I borrowed a T-shirt. Hope you don’t mind.”

I crunch my breakfast of champions and shake my head. “Not at all. But I really like you better out of it.”

See how she looks down? How her lips curve into a soft smile? See the color that rises in her cheeks? Good God—she’s blushing again. After last night? After the cursing, the screaming, the scratching? Now she blushes?

Adorable, right? I think so too.

“I didn’t think cooking in the nude was very sanitary.”

I put my now-empty bowl back on the tray. “Do you like to cook?” In the months we’ve worked together, I’ve learned a lot about Kate, but there’s still more I want to know.

She nods and finishes her cereal. “You grow up over a diner, it kind of rubs off on you. Baking is sort of my thing.


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