Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
His free hand slid up my arm, over my shoulder, then up the back of my neck, grabbing, and yanking me against his chest. His fingertips slid upward, curling into my hair, and giving the slightest of tugs, and holding as his thumb moved to my clit, and two fingers slipped downward, then sank inside me.
A low, throaty moan escaped me at the touch. It met the slow, deep exhale that escaped Fallon, like he was trying to hold it together too, like he was getting as wrapped up as I was.
My hand raised, curling into the tee he wore under his cut, holding on as his fingers started to fuck me. But not like the night before. He was unhurried, so slow that the need for release became painful, a clawing, desperate sensation between my thighs.
My hips moved in small circles as his fingers stopped thrusting, and curled instead, stroking against my top wall.
He drove me up quickly, then right to the edge. And with one more circle to my clit and stroke to my G-spot, the orgasm crashed through my system, leaving me pressing my lips to his chest to muffle the moan as it escaped me.
Fallon's hand massaged the back of my neck for a moment, waiting for me to come back down.
As soon as I did, though, he murmured, "Yeah," as his fingers slid out of me. "You don't want me at all, huh?" he asked as I shocked backward from him, watching as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking my taste off of them. "Keep trying to tell yourself that, babe," he said, turning, and making long-legged strides toward the steps, then jogging up them.
Alone, I tried to pull myself together as quickly as possible, brushing back my hair, taking a few deep breaths, then charging up the stairs behind him.
"So?" Niro asked Fallon as he moved into the bar.
"So, she doesn't have shit."
"Or she simply doesn't share her shit with just anyone who asks," I said, schooling my face into indifferent lines as he turned to face me, brow raised.
"That's how it is, huh?" he asked.
"That's absolutely how it is."
"And there's... nothing I can do to persuade you?" he asked. From the way he angled himself, I was the only one who saw how his tongue darted out to lick at the corner of his lips. But the fact that he dared to do it while around our men was enough to have my spine straightening, my jaw tightening.
"Not if you were the last ma—organization on the planet," I told him with a smile so fake it ached.
"Fine, get yourself killed," Fallon said, making Dutch, Pops, and Grandpa who were still gathered around stiffen and look toward me for cues.
"You first!" I said in my best honey-sweet voice, pairing it with a big smile and a little "toodles" wave.
With that, Fallon shook his head and moved toward the door, disappearing with his men.
"I take it that it didn't go well," Dutch said, lips twitching, always being a fan of when I was a bitch. Which was good. Because I knew I acted that way often, even if it was usually forced.
"Can anything ever possibly go well with that condescending prick?" I asked, making my way to the bar, going right for the vodka.
"His father seems pretty loved in this town," Grandpa said, running a hand through his salt & pepper hair.
"Yes, well, then his mother must be a real pain in the ass, because that apple fell far from that paternal tree," I said, taking a long swig of the vodka, enjoying the burn as it made its way down my throat.
"Did he have anything to say?"
"Only that they are as clueless as we are about the whole thing. They can't think of anyone who would want to take them out."
"Except us," Pops said, shrugging.
"We've been over this. We can't take them out. Haven't you seen how well-connected they all are? You fuck with the Henchmen, you not only fuck with them and their sister chapter in Florida that keeps growing, but you fuck with that weird-ass survivalist camp, some of the best contract killers and hired muscles in the area, the mafia, and likely even the fucking loan sharks."
"And that sister of his," Dutch agreed.
"His sister? Fallon's sister?" I asked.
"Yeah. Weird name. Ferryn, I think. She's a fucking lunatic. Has a bigger body count than all of us put together. If I remember it right, she's with one of the Henchmen. Vance, I think."
"It's hard to keep track of all of them," Pops said, shaking his head.
"Yeah, but you get my point. It's a clusterfuck. And unnecessary. We're getting along better than expected when we stole from them. And had their president kidnapped."
"So, if they don't think it's an enemy of theirs, and we don't really have one yet, then it has to be an outside threat," Dutch said.