Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Dakota spins in place, gesturing to the destruction. “This is where I live and they’ve stomped all over it. I knew we might have to move, but Logan’s grown up here! It’s his home and I don’t want to feel like we’re getting run out of it.” She grabs a cushion and slams it back into place on the couch. “Invaded my space. Broken my things. Gone through our freaking bedrooms!” Another cushion. “And I don’t even know why! What did I do?”
“Baby, nothing.” I wanna pull her in for a hug, but maybe it’s better for her to vent a little first. Besides, she’s pretty fucking hot when she’s furious. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not even Georgia’s fault, even if she might’ve been the one to get into trouble first. It’s the fuckers who did this, and trust me, we’re gonna find them and make sure they know not to fuck with us or ours ever again.”
Stiff nods. “They’re never gonna get close to you or Logan. And if they try, they’re gonna fucking regret it. If they live long enough.”
I nod at him, knowing my smile is a little unhinged and vicious. Ever since Dakota showed up, I feel like we’ve been watching him wake up after several years of living for nothing but the Sons. He knows exactly how fucking fragile tomorrow can be. If he ever made empty threats, those stopped the day he saved my life.
“Fuck ‘em,” she growls. Pretty sure that’s the first time I’ve heard her swear properly. It’s hot. “I want to tear them to shreds. They make me feel violated.” She throws the last of the cushions back on the couch after wincing at a long gash in the side, where the stuffing is coming out. “And I want them to pay for all the stuff they ruined! I can’t afford to replace all this.”
“Baby, come here.” I approach her like I’m approaching a cornered animal. “We’re gonna fix this.”
“How? They’ve trashed my life!” She tips her head back and lets out a strangled scream. “I want to shoot something. Can I shoot something?” Her eyes are a little too bright.
I hold up my hands. “Shh, relax, baby. If you want to shoot something, we’ll go back to the club and you can let it all out on the shooting range. Doing it here isn’t a good idea unless you want little Mrs. Vasquez to lose her ever loving marbles.”
“We’re gonna figure out who’s targeting you,” Stiff says quietly, as deadly as I’ve ever fucking heard him, letting the savage out. “And if you wanna be the one to pull the trigger, we can arrange that.”
Dakota pauses, like she only just realized that when we say we’re gonna fucking kill someone, it’s not a damn expression. She seems to deflate a little, some of the fire dying down to a low simmer. “I don’t literally want to shoot someone.”
I open my arms and pull her into a hug. “But if you did, we wouldn’t hold it against you.” She sighs, relaxing into my arms. I slide my fingers into her hair, find a good grip, then make her look up at me. “And there’s more than one way to work off some extra tension. The fucker who did this isn’t here to shoot, but you’ve got two volunteers to make sure you come.”
Her pupils dilate and her plump lips part. Fuck, that’s hot. I can think of all sorts of dirty things involving those lips, and the tongue that just wet them.
Stiff steps up behind her, putting his hands on her hips and sandwiching her between us. She lets out a surprised gasp as he leans in and hisses into her ear. “Whaddya say?”
“Really? You want to fool around now?”
“Baby, fooling around is what high schoolers do. If you let us, we’re gonna show you exactly what we can do and you’ll never fucking call it just fooling around again.” I lean in, pause just long enough for her to stop me if she wants, but there’s no denying that hungry look or the way she parts her lips in anticipation before I’m even there.
She tastes like pure motherfucking heat.
22
DAKOTA
In the past few days, I’ve kissed more men than I have in years, but two at the same time is still a very new experience. It feels illegal somehow to have Lash plundering my mouth while Stiff worries the skin on my neck with his teeth and grinds into me from behind. It feels like I’m being touched everywhere, and I don’t know what to focus on.
Lash is right. This isn’t fooling around. This is deadly serious.
My shirt is tugged out of my pants, allowing Stiff’s rough hands access to my bare waist. The brush of his callused fingertips leaves goosebumps in their wake as he explores up my sides, pulling my shirt along. This time there’s no Logan in the next room, so when he reaches the bottom of my bra, I still haven’t stopped him. And once he covers both of my breasts with his big hands, I don’t want to stop him.