Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“And this is my fault how? Since when is it a crime to fuck a willing chick?” Mike asked, leaning against the closet door.
Kane snarled. “Since her family is some backwards dumbasses who worship aliens and lock up their women’s pussies like they’re filled with diamonds. Sort. This. Out.” Droplets of spittle landed on Mike’s cheek, but he’d let that slide for the sake of their family bond.
Mike hummed. “They don’t worship aliens. They make figurines of little green men for a living. Jesus.” Which reminded him that he needed to get rid of the ashtray Harlyn had given him as a present, claiming she’d made it herself.
Mona rolled her eyes and adjusted the Gucci biker jacket she often wore when riding. She’d grown up in wealth, and Daddy wouldn’t let her go without. Living in the Nevada desert hadn’t changed her fashion sense, even if she was so much freer out from under the wings of her mafia family. “So… I’ll be going. Thanks for the trip Mike, I needed that.”
He showed her his teeth in a wide smile. “Back to the mommy grinder? Bet you can’t wait to change diapers again.”
Mona laughed. “Why do you think we got Leo as an extra parent?” She waved and was off, swaying her full hips on the way out.
Kane tugged on Mike’s beard. “I’m talking to you, man! One hair falls off—”
“Why’s Shay working here anyway? Weren’t you supposed to hire help?”
“We have help,” Shay said and pointed her chin toward the front of the store.
A woman stood in the sunshine, facing the vast expanse of dry shrubs and pale brown hills stretching on the other side of the road. Petite yet not too short, she was the perfect size to pick up and carry around. Her legs were long and slender, like a gazelle’s, and her hair styled into two cutesy buns just above her nape. She had it dyed too—platinum blonde at the top and dipped in color at the tips, with mint on one side and baby pink on the other. Someone needed to water her or she’d dry out in the merciless midday sun.
Mike hadn’t seen her face yet and already knew he wanted to tap that.
“Who. Is. That?” he asked, quickly finishing his beer and stepping to the side in a bid to see more.
Kane exchanged glances with Shay, but Mike couldn’t decipher what the silent communication meant. Other than Kane being jealous that Mike wasn’t tied down, and could fuck whoever he pleased, of course.
“Arden. I guess you should go meet her. We hired her the day after you left for your trip with Mona,” Kane said, crossing his arms, and making the clown on his bicep scowl.
But all of Mike’s attention was on the pert ass packed into tight skinny jeans. Arden paired those with lilac high top sneakers, a studded belt in the same shade, and a white crop top that revealed the small of her back, as pale as her arms covered in colorful tattoos.
“I’m going in,” he said with a grin.
Shay snorted. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Mike guzzled down the beer, dropped the can into the trash and walked out of the store with his smoothest gait. He approached the pretty fae adjusting a newspaper in a stand at the front of the shop, and when he looked at her pristine nape from up close, his instinct told him to lick the sheen of sweat off the smooth skin.
But that might have been too much for starters, so he settled on swatting one of the round buttocks instead. “I hear you’re the new girl, pretty thing.”
She twirled around, and before Mike knew it, a slap landed on… his beard. It had been clearly meant for his cheek, but Arden hadn’t accounted for this much of a height difference. Not the tiniest girl Mike ever hit on, but she was twig-skinny, and when Mike stole a glance at her chest, there wasn’t much there to write home about. Flat as an asphalt road in a desert. But Mike was all for equal opportunities, since flat chicks gave blowjobs no worse than girls with huge racks.
Arden stepped back and frantically pulled out what Mike at first thought was a key, but then it opened into the cutest little butterfly knife. It trembled in her slim fingers with nails painted glitter pink. If that wasn’t the most adorable attempt at a threat, Mike didn’t know what was.
Arden took one more second to assess him from top to bottom, and their eyes met. Hers were pale blue, as big as a doe’s, with long dark lashes, but her expression was no less determined just because she had the face of a doll.
“Step. Away.”
Mike’s hands already went up in surrender—because a filly needed to want being ridden if it was to be any fun—but as Arden’s warning echoed in Mike’s head, his smile dropped, because he realized something.