Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“That’s exactly what it means.” Bane winked. “Get ready, Blaine. I’m throwing you in the deep end.”
It turned out throwing me in the deep end meant standing me in front of a life-sized practice dummy and having me repeatedly stab the areas he marked. One blow there would kill quickly. I winced with every strike. When he told me to aim for the throat, I dropped the thing, chest heaving as I hurled myself across the room.
Sienna described Bane’s workout/training room well. It was filled with practice dummies, equipment, and a mat for Sienna to throw him around on—though I suspected he only let her do that to be kind and give her confidence.
Confidence. That’s what you need, Blaine, and quick! Get a hold of yourself. The Merchants aren’t an after-school baking club. Facing what they do every day was never going to be pretty.
“Do you need to stop?”
“Like I can say yes,” I flung. “If I stop, you’ll think I’m not ready. You all will. But I have to be ready. I walk into Caddell House in two hours. I don’t have time to s-stop.” My stomach heaved, threatening to spill the breakfast I didn’t eat all over my shoes. Picturing stabbing a knife in a man’s throat would do that to you.
“Not just any man, Kenzie.” I hadn’t realized I spoke out loud. “We’re not talking about kind old fellas feeding ducks in the park, or smiling fathers playing with their kids. The only ones you’d ever use that knife on are the Lucas, Snyders, and Vitos of this city. And you’d only do it in self-defense.” He trapped my gaze. “You can treat me to all the mind-blowing sex you want, but you’ll never make me turn you into a cold-blooded killer.”
I chuckled—surprised he made me do so. “I know that’s not what we’re doing here. I really do, Bane. It’s just... stabbing even a practice dummy in the neck is cruel. If the movies have it right, they won’t die right away. They’ll bleed out gasping on their blood.” Bile burned my throat. “I’m not interested in causing pain, Bane. I just want to know that if someone else attacks or kidnaps me, I can stop them.”
He came up behind me. I stilled as he grasped my shoulders. “This is how you do that, Kenzie.”
We didn’t speak for a long spell.
“That’s enough for one morning.” Dropping his hands, he went to push the mangled dummy into the corner. “You have to get ready for work. Good luck today.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Will you visit me on my lunch break and screw me on my desk?”
Bane stumbled.
“I’ve got a swanky office with blackout curtains.”
“What you’ve got is one more go at surprising me.” Bane turned that grin on me. “Three is all you get.”
I giggled, feeling like myself again. “I may try past that though.”
“I will not screw you on your desk today. While everyone is out to lunch is the perfect time to look around and see if anyone is stashing expensive tracking software in their desk.” Bane walked out, his smirk the last to leave the room. “But I will fuck you on your desk tomorrow.”
It was the promise of that which kept the smile on my face as I showered, fed Laurel, then climbed in the car with Sunny. The guards were done following me around and protecting me, but Sunny was not.
“Nervous?” he asked.
We sped through the Cinco streets, my nails piercing Masie fine leather. Sunny’s fingers were probing a very interesting spot between my legs.
“I’m not right now,” I half moaned.
“Then my plan is working.”
“Any time you want to finger-fuck the nerves out of me, please do.” My head fell back on the cushion. Opening my legs, I sank in the seat, hoping to prevent all of Cinco from seeing my orgasm face. “Maybe I should be more nervous about the person in CH working for the Brotherhood, but the one who really raises my anxiety is—”
“Lyla Dawson.”
“I’m not afraid of her. I just know how wickedly devious she is. If anyone can get inside the mind of a sociopathic killer, it’s her— Oh.” Heat rose between my breasts. Sunny truly was multitalented.
“A backhand is better than an open-palm slap,” he dropped. “You get more power with a backhand swing, and knuckles across the face hurt like hell.”
I gave him a crazy look.
“Advice, sweet treat, for when you smack the shit out of Dawson.”
I snorted a laugh. “I’ve certainly thought about it enough times. Now, enough about her. My man is in the middle of making me soak this seat.”
“His favorite pastime.”
Sunny crooked his finger, arching my back off the leather. I had a shorter fuse than usual that morning. A little bit longer and I’d burst.
I moaned and clutched the armrest tighter. My foot pressed against the dashboard uncaring of anyone seeing me. Sunny pressed that spot and I exploded, coming hard, fast, and loud.