Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“You like being seen Z. No one needs an appointment to find you in our clubs.”
Just as he’s about to reply, a crashing sound draws our eyes to a tray on the floor, glass shattered around it, and a flustered woman offering a barmaid to help to clean it up. My eyes drag over the long fucking legs that thicken with toned muscle at her thighs, curved hips, tapered waist, and round juicy tits nearly spilling out of her black dress.
Thud.
It can’t be.
Chapter Nine
Alonya
Ileave the haven of the back office and almost collide with Jasmin rushing through the door from the bar area.
“Slow the hell down, woman, or you’re going to have an accident,” I huff, rolling my eyes at her.
“There are two men here asking for Tanner,” she chatters out, nervously biting at her nails. Is he decent back there?”
I arch an eyebrow at her insinuation. “What the hell are you implying? We’re like family, not fuckbuddies,” I snap, shaking my head.
“Fine, sorry. I thought…”
“Wrong. You thought, wrong. Why are you so rattled anyway? Are the men asking for him cops?”
“I don’t know! They don’t look like cops,” she says, a glaze coming over her eyes. I raise a brow, and she shrugs, biting her lip. “They’re super-hot.”
My heart begins pounding against my ribs. It could be any hot men but a shiver races over my skin lifting all the hairs. “I need to get out of here,” I bark as I attempt to move around her.
She grabs my arm, stopping me. “Would it be bad if it were cops? He’s not in trouble, is he?”
“Of course not. Go and get him.”
She releases me and skulks off, disappearing down the hallway.
Coming through to the bar, I dodge the bartender who’s grabbing a tray and filling two glasses with whiskey chasers, and careen straight into another barmaid. Her tray crashes to the floor and glass and liquor spraying everywhere.
Fucking fuck.
“Sorry. Let me help you clean that up,” I offer, but she shoos me away.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Okay, then.” I’m not going to argue.
I make my way to the exit, but before I reach it, I lift my eyes to sneak a look at the men who had Jasmin all flustered.
No…
A haunting mist wraps itself around my shoulders.
Fuzzy humming invades my head and my legs weaken.
Oh God.
It’s really them.
It’s really them.
It’s really fucking them.
My mouth opens and tears well in my eyes without permission. I didn’t think I would ever see them again and it’s like a gun being fired straight into my chest cavity, rapidly stealing the life from me.
Icy blue eyes cut into me from Zahkar and I can see Rodion’s lips moving, but the roaring of my heart mutes the sound of his voice.
My legs fill with lead as I attempt to move, but I’m rooted to the spot. I need to get out of here. Run you stupid woman.
Rodion’s fierce green eyes narrow on me. He rises from the booth and walks to where I’m standing, pinning me with such a fiery glare, I swear I’ll melt right at his feet. His scent is familiar and it takes everything in me not to lean into him. Everything about him is just as I remember.
Beautiful. Pristine. Intense.
His nostrils flare as he glowers at me. The muscle in his jaw ticks, the serpent inked there vibrating with his pulse, a furious tell of his and one I only saw when he was in the ring.
Behind him, a shadow befalls him.
His brother.
Zahkar.
Gorgeous. Pure. Powerful.
His intensity blends with Rodion’s and it’s like staring at the sun and the moon all at once. I’m willingly blinding myself because they’re too beautiful to look away from.
It’s a formidable thing being the center of their attention that could make any man quake and any woman fucking weak. I’m not immune. Even after all this time.
My knees are shaking and the words barely stumble past my lips. “You found me.”
Rodion’s eyes dip to my lips for a brief moment before they’re back to searing two holes into me.
“We didn’t find you,” Rodion growls, “because we weren’t looking.” He stalks past me, his massive shoulder barely knocking into me. The tiny zap of connection has my heart in my throat.
Ouch.
He may as well have shoved a knife in my gut on his way past because it hurts that bad. The woman inside me who’s still hopelessly in love with him crumbles at his dismissal and at the pain that was clearly evident in his otherworldly green eyes.
I’m going to cry. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“It’s really you,” Zahkar says, still towering over me, dragging my attention his way. His brows furrow as he seems to drink in my magnetic presence. So often, I would fall into his arms, as it felt so safe and comforting to be in them.
“Zahkar,” I whisper, tears heavily slipping past my cheeks and racing down toward my jaw.