Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Come on, break so prettily for me.
I clutch Dahlia by the hips, slamming her against my front, and grin as his scowl deepens.
This could be us, I tell him with my eyes. It was us two days ago in that locker room.
There’s something I’m learning about Preston. He has some territorial tendencies. Not because he cares, but probably because he doesn’t like others to play with his toys.
He’d probably rather break said toys than let someone else have them.
Seems that I should give him a shove over the edge.
Let’s see if he’ll be here in less than the seven count I gave his ass the other day.
My lips curve as I whisper, “One.”
“What are you counting?” Dahlia asks.
I spin her, then pull her toward me and clutch her cheek. “Two.”
“What are you doing?”
“Three.” I lean down.
Dahlia steps back, and whisper-yells, “Don’t kiss me.”
“Four.”
“Marcus!”
“Five—”
My word is cut off when an arm hooks around my throat from behind, and I’m yanked back against a hard, familiar chest.
I can’t resist the smile that breaks on my mouth as his raw masculine scent with a hint of the deep ocean fills my nose.
See? I knew it would be under seven.
My arm is twisted in the air by Kane, who looks like he’ll murder me.
And the whole thing just makes me laugh.
They’re both predictable.
“My oh my. I’m honored by the warm welcome.”
Kane twists my arm harder, and I groan.
“Don’t,” Dahlia says. “Let him go.”
“You defend him again, and I’ll break his arm,” Kane replies, still glaring at me. “Just say one more fucking word, Dahlia, and I swear he’ll never play another game in his life.”
I glance back at Preston, whose face looks murderous under the dim light. He better be murderous because he doesn’t like the idea of his “bestie” threatening my hockey career like that.
“I’m so scared. Save me?”
“You better shut the fuck up if you know what’s best for you,” Preston says in a deadpan voice.
“My heart is pounding…from absolute boredom. Hey, sweetheart.” I lick my lip, looking at Dahlia. “I think we should get out of here. You said you couldn’t wait to ride my cock.”
Preston strangles me in a chokehold as Kane twists my arm.
But I don’t give a fuck about Kane. Not when Preston is breaking for me. His wall is chipping at the edges, and he’s panicking, and there’s only one way he knows how to react.
With violence.
It’s why he’s almost strangling me to death now.
More.
I need him to break some more.
Dahlia releases a sigh. “This is such a hassle. I’m going to find someone else.”
Then she starts walking out, and Kane releases me and follows her, leaving me alone with my favorite homicidal maniac.
We’re not all alone, considering all the people and chaos surrounding us, but we might as well be.
As my gaze flits back to his, I strain, “I know you miss me, but I prefer a kiss over choking.”
His eyes glitter in a dark, enchanting green. “Do you want to die? Actually, don’t answer that. You look like you do, and I’m happy to oblige.”
And then he drags me behind him as I laugh.
Let’s see if he can ignore me after I’m done with him tonight.
14
PRESTON
This is not what I meant when I mentioned ending the dangerous fixation.
But hear me out. This motherfucker Marcus has so much audacity that needs to be dealt with and eradicated once and for all.
Appearing in my town. In my club. Right under my fucking nose?
Yeah, that’s unforgivable.
And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that he was here with Danielle.
I’ll deal with that spy he planted by Kane’s side later, but for now…
I slam Marcus against the wall of the narrow alleyway at the back of the club. The light from the lamppost shines so dimly, no one will see when I turn him into a corpse.
The asshole is smirking at me with that provocative look in his eyes that seems to work every fucking time.
What is it about this prick that grinds my gears?
A question I asked Dr. Duret after the mini freak-out I had on her couch. In pure Dr. Duret fashion, she remained completely calm and said I need to look inside myself for the answer.
Which is a heck no. We’re not opening that Pandora’s box that’s dormant somewhere in me.
What I can do, however, is fuck my problems up. Works like a charm every time.
I tighten my grip on Marcus’s throat as I lean close into his space. But then I pause because now I’m drenched by his overpowering scent.
Fuck—the way he smells is addicting.
It’s been only a few days since I last saw him, but it feels like forever ago. And usually, logically, I shouldn’t give a fuck.
I certainly couldn’t care less about the girls who are vying for my attention.
But that’s the thing, no? He hasn’t been vying for my attention since the locker room. He didn’t even send a text after the game like he did the other time.