Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Yana glances between us. My gaze locks onto Melissa instead. She sure as fuck wasn’t wearing that when we left, which means she dressed in the car.
She's bent over, ass up as she rummages through the passenger side. Wind kicks up her bright blonde hair, dragging the scent of her shampoo right to my dick. I can already feel my temper flaring and no amount of imagining her silk strands through my fingers is gonna calm it.
“What the fuck are you up to, Melissa?” I use my body to block any view of hers and fight with myself not to shove her further into the car and fuck her until she submits.
She straightens up slowly, like she's got all the time in the world, and slings her handbag over one shoulder with a flick that screams attitude. Her green eyes meet mine and fuck, up this close in the natural light, she’s even hotter than I remember.
Her hand moves between us. “You and I don't know each other while I'm here.”
I lean in a fraction, jaw tightening as I hold her stare, the air between us crackling with that familiar electricity.
“You sure about that?” I need to fuck her. Now.
“Round 10... Fight,” Yana mimics from beside me.
Beast laughs, pulling me back. “Come on, I'll show you girls around. Hella! I'll meet you back at the bar.”
My eyes remain locked with Melissa, before she turns and walks with Beast and Yana.
As soon as my boots hit the clubhouse, my phone chimes and I open the message to find a photo of Layla kneeling on her bed, long brunette hair framing her petite, curvy body, one hand resting on her inner thigh and the other sucking her thumb in her mouth.
I toss it back into my pocket. I'll reply to her later. Or not.
I claim a stool at the bar, nodding to Old Fella as he slides a beer toward me. Taking my drink, I join Frost and Ripper at their table, dropping into a chair. Their questioning looks piss me off instantly. “What? Spit it out, fuckers.”
Frost slams his beer down, those bright blue eyes narrowing at me over the rim. “Guess who brought fresh meat home.”
Ripper snickers, rolling his eyes and Nyx leans in from the next stool, twisting toward the door where the girls vanished through.
My boot connects with his chair leg before I even think it. Wood cracks sharp against the floor as the whole thing tips, dumping Nyx onto his ass in a sprawl of limbs and spilled whiskey. He scrambles up, face twisting red with laughter, but I plant my foot on the seat, holding it down.
Ripper snorts into his drink. Frost just watches, amusement curling his tanned features.
Nyx straightens, brushing dust off his cut, but he backs off with hands raised. “Easy, VP. Didn't know she was claimed.”
Doors swing back open and Melissa steps through. Her shoulders turn rigid for a moment. You’d miss it if you weren’t looking as close as I was.
I cross the scarred wooden floor in three strides. She spots me coming, chin lifting in defiance, but I crowd her space anyway, backing her against the wall and out through the way she came from.
I grip her by her chin. “I’m only gonna say this once.”
She doesn’t fight back, and fuck I don’t know what it is about having a girl who rarely allows any man handling her, let you handle her.
Her green eyes stay on mine, her lips slightly pouted from my grip.
My lip twitches. “Unless you’re prepared to get railed by all six of my brothers out there, I’d suggest you be real careful with how you throw yourself around going forward. This isn’t a place you grew up in, and those men aren’t the same ones you grew up with.” My voice drops low, breath ghosting her ear. “To them? You’re nothing but a piece of ass they haven’t had, and before you consider riding the pretty boy express, make sure you think long and hard about their road names, or read the badges on their cut.”
I lean back enough to catch hesitation flash over her eyes.
Then it’s gone, and she’s trying to force herself out of my grip. “That's very cute. Now move, please?”
Fuck that.
My other hand lands hard beside her head, caging her in further. “Women like you act tough. You throw a big game. Probably got a bit trauma in there that you use as paint for that mask. But you see men like me? We break girls like you. Open them up just to see how they work. What they're made of.”
“Break me?” She shoves at my chest, hard enough to create an inch of space, and slips past. “You couldn't even handle me in pieces.”
She stalks to the bar, hips swaying. Old Fella slides her a water without asking, but every eye in the place tracks her, brothers leaning in, muttering low.