Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“I, um…”
Brooke slung an arm around her shoulders. “You’re safe, Brenna. We promise.”
“Promise,” Liv reiterated with force.
How come she wasn’t short-winded like the rest of them?
“Okay,” Brenna whispered, then allowed herself to be guided into the clubhouse. She blinked as she stepped inside and gave her eyes time to adjust to the dimmer lighting. The place looked nothing like the filthy, alcohol-soaked party house she’d imagined. It was gorgeous, even to her critical decorator’s eye.
A striking bar lined the left wall, made of high-quality wood that matched multiple round tables. Biker memorabilia hung on nearly every inch of wall space, but someone with a tacky taste hadn’t decorated the room. It had been designed by someone with the true love and knowledge of the Handlers’ men at heart. Whoever had decorated it wanted this building to be a home for the club, not merely a meeting place or party house. She ran her hand over a round table crafted from solid mahogany. The wood floor lacked sticky residue, and the staircase leading to a second level had a custom iron handrail that had to cost a pretty penny—a true masterpiece.
The heavy tread of footsteps had her whirling around and into a crushing embrace. Two strong arms closed around her, gathering her against a firm chest. Surprise at the embrace faded in seconds, leaving behind the delicious feeling of being held by a man. By Lock. Already, she’d know the spicy scent of his cologne anywhere. Half his house smelled that way.
“You holding up okay?” Lock whispered in her ear, sending a zing down her spine. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke, and she had to fight the urge to shiver visibly. How long had it been since a man took one look at her and sensed she needed physical contact? Oliver thought of himself too much to notice her needs. And even if he found her upset, he wasn’t the type to draw her against him and use his body to comfort her. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved it. Physical touch had always been her strongest love language, and she’d suppressed that side of herself for too long to appease Oliver.
All it took was one tight hug from Lock, a man she barely knew, to bring her long-neglected needs to the surface.
God, he felt so good. So warm, strong, solid, and, dare she think it, safe. They’d formed an unspoken bond in the past day and were now a team of some sort.
Her eyes drifted closed, and she let the bold and masculine scent overwhelm her senses. If a hug felt this incredible, what would it feel like if he leaned in a little more and pressed his lips to her cheek? Or her jaw?
Her neck?
Her lips?
She nearly groaned aloud as her body began to spark to life, growing heavy between her legs. Her nipples tingled. God, how she wanted to rub all over him for relief.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s figure this shit out so we can get this fucker out of our lives.”
The words hit like a bucket of icy water. Right. There she was, clinging to him in the clubhouse like a needy puppy. They weren’t there for a hug fest. They had plans to make.
Again.
Would she ever not make herself look like a fool in front of Lock?
“Hell yes!” Spec shouted with near glee as he read the messages from her phone. “Knew this motherfucker wouldn’t stay away for long.” He glanced up, eyes glittering with evil delight. “Looks like you’re about to get your life back, Brenna.”
She should have felt elation, and she did, to an extent. Oliver would get what he deserved and hopefully never be stupid enough to borrow from loan sharks again—loan sharks she was currently cohabitating with—or set up a woman to be harmed, and that thrilled her. What she hadn’t expected was the nagging feeling of disappointment. Soon, this would all vanish, and she’d return to her everyday, staid, lonely life. And as much as she’d wished for this very scenario just a few days ago, she’d quickly come to enjoy the women’s company.
Lock’s too.
To a startling degree, which meant it was the perfect time to end this nonsense and return to reality.
“Okay,” she said, taking a healthy step away from Lock. He frowned, but she forced herself to ignore the look that had her wanting to press her body right back against him. “What do we do?” She faced Spec. “Should I answer him?”
The club’s enforcer scratched what appeared to be a few days of beard growth. His expression darkened as he no doubt mulled over even darker thoughts. Funny how only a few days ago he’d terrified her, and now she found comfort in the fierce expression.
A glance at Lock revealed an even more murderous expression. Holy shit, if looks could kill, Oliver would drop dead wherever he stood at that moment.