Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I gasp into his mouth as pleasure builds.
Pulling his lips from mine, his mouth finds my neck and there, he begins softly sucking, driving me over the edge.
I pull on my restraints, wanting more, needing more.
“Let me touch you, please,” I beg.
He doesn’t answer.
He just keeps that wicked mouth on my neck as he moves his hips until I can’t hold back any longer. Just as an orgasm builds, he bites down. The sharp sting of pain has an explosion rocking my body, something quite unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Pain and pleasure all mixed in one basket, and it’s out of this world. I scream, gone are the moans, and my body thrashes as wave after wave takes over.
A feral hiss leaves his lips as he fucks me harder, deeper, his skin slapping against mine, his hard body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. When he finds his release, he does it with a growl so low and guttural, it makes my insides clench around him. Letting my head fall back, I pant with both shock and admiration at the experience he just gave me. Never in my dreams would I have imagined sex could be that insane.
I never want it to end.
“I,” I breathe, “that was...”
“That was just the beginning.”
Oh.
My.
Word.
“IS THERE A DIFFERENCE?”
My voice is soft and tired, as I lay beside Western, free now of my restraints. He hasn’t left, which I was certain he would. Instead, he fell beside me and is now laying, hands behind his head, his body still blissfully naked. I haven’t bothered to get dressed either, and I’m aching all over.
“A difference?”
I turn my head, looking at him. “Between killing someone innocent and killing someone who doesn’t deserve it. Do you think there is truly a difference?”
I figure he won’t answer me, generally, he doesn’t answer the tough questions. So, I’m surprised when he does.
“There is a difference.”
“A life is a life, is it not?”
“No.”
“Care to elaborate?”
He exhales, slowly. “If you’re put on this earth and you make the choice to go and take an innocent life, then you don’t deserve to keep the gift of life for yourself.”
The way he just explained that - I’ve never heard something so powerful in all my life.
Nothing he could have said would have made his choice sink into my mind deeper than those words.
“Does it bother you?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Taking a life. Does it haunt you?”
“No.”
“Because they deserve it?”
A sharp nod.
“Western?”
His jaw ticks, and he turns his head slowly, looking at me.
“I still don’t understand how you can just let Bill walk around as if he’s done nothing.”
His expression hardens and I know right away I’ve hit a nerve.
“He pulled the trigger that day, but I’m the reason Braithe is dead. I’m just as much of a monster as he is.”
I hate that he thinks like that.
It kills me that he blames himself.
Rolling towards him, I frown. “What is it going to take for me to show you that you’re wrong. So wrong.”
“I made the choice to follow him and leave that boy on the ground. I left him to die.”
“He would have died anyway,” I say, softly.
“Do you know that?”
I mean, no, but I have to believe that if he passed so quickly that there would have been little chance for him to make it out alive.
“Bill doesn’t deserve to get away with what he’s done, regardless of what you think. I’m certain he has had a hand in many more crimes around town. He’s a monster, and someone has to do something to stop him.”
“Bill is smart.”
That’s it?
That’s all he’s going to say?
“Why aren’t you angrier about this?”
Sitting up, he runs a hand through his hair and pushes to his feet, leaning down to collect his jeans. He’s going to leave, as he always does, and there won’t be a single thing I can do about it. This is how Western deals with anything he doesn’t want to face. He just gets up, and he leaves.
“Don’t walk out,” I say, watching as he pulls up his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned.
“I’m not doin’ this.”
“I won’t say anything more. Just please, don’t go.”
“Have to,” he murmurs, picking up the rest of his things, “talk soon.”
Yet again, he walks out, leaving me with nothing.
Flopping to my back, I exhale angrily.
I might never understand what it was like for him that day, but I do know that someone has to do something to stop Bill from continuing his demonic little plot. He is hurting people, and he’s getting away with it.
I make a mental note to speak with Colt. Surely, he has looked further into this?
Surely the club wants to help.
Someone must help, right?
Someone must be wanting vengeance for Western.
Closing my eyes, I run my hands over the tender flesh between my legs. That was something I’ll not forget in a hurry. It has me wondering what it all means? The question of Hazel plays in my mind, repeatedly. Surely, he would have told me if they were still together? Surely, he simply wouldn’t have done it.