Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
She’s drunk and angry, and I can’t blame her. “What’s that?”
“Frank is the one who sold me out to the Iron Kings. Didn’t think I’d figure that out, did you? Well, I did, and fuck you and your precious club for not telling me.”
She freezes and claps a hand over her mouth before she turns tail and hauls ass to the bathroom.
I listen outside the door as she empties her stomach, which doesn’t have much in it. She groans and then the sound of water. I wait until the water shuts off to intrude. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she grunts and wipes her mouth with a wad of toilet paper. “I’ll be just fine, Preacher, without you or anyone else worrying about me.”
That’s my problem. For some reason, I worry about her. I do care about her. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“I’m fine.” She stumbles past me, removing her t-shirt, jeans, and shoes until she’s in nothing but black lace underwear that could tempt a saint.
The woman has curves everywhere and beautiful vibrant art covering her pale skin. She’s walking, talking temptation, and I feel like I’m being put to the test.
She drops down face first on the bed, leaving a round backside half-covered in lace on full display.
“I’m fine, Preacher. Go home,” she mumbles before her breathing evens out, and she’s fast asleep.
I don’t leave her. I can’t. She looks so innocent and peaceful when she’s sleeping as if all of her burdens are just gone. I should stop looking at her. She’s too tempting when she’s awake and using that smart mouth to make me want her. Those curves, the wild blue hair, the hint of pain in her eyes, and the ink that decorates her strength and hides her pain.
I know the right thing to do is get another brother to look after her, to make sure she’s free of the Kings and safe until Ace figures out our next move. But again, I can’t.
I love my brothers, and I trust them with my life, but I can’t bring myself to relinquish control of her safety over to anyone else. I’ll protect her until Hector is dead and buried, and then I’ll walk away, let her move away, and live the life she deserves.
I lie beside Gia, and my mind fills with thoughts of her. Underneath me. On top of me. Her lush, pink-painted lips wrapped around my cock, her blunt-tipped black nails scratching down my back as I thrust into her over and over and over again. I can already tell that Gia is the kind of woman who throws herself fully into everything she does.
She wouldn’t be such a talented hacker, and her mother wouldn’t have such a problem with her partying if that wasn’t true. I know it’ll be the same in the bedroom. She’ll be a wildcat, and I won’t be able to get enough of her, not of those sweet curves or the way she’ll make me feel.
My cock is hard, making it painful to sleep, but given how frisky she was earlier, I can’t dip off into the bathroom and rub one out. So I lay beside her, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the things I want to—but won’t—do to her.
Gia is in a fragile place, and she needs my friendship more than she needs me to fuck her. And I can’t get too close to her. It could be dangerous for both of us. Not to mention my MC.
My thoughts bounce from Gia to sex with Gia to keeping Gia safe from the Kings before my eyes start to grow heavy. Sleep doesn’t come easy for me. Hasn’t since my second year in the Army.
My mind doesn’t quiet easily, and with the mess with Hector and his crew, I know there’s more thinking to do before sleep comes.
After what he’s done to Kelsey and McKenna, not to mention Kenna’s friend Grace and all the other women, the man deserves a slow death in a shallow grave. He’s not going to stop coming after the Reckless Souls, which means we need to stop him once and for all. Somehow, I have to get Shades and Coop to help me make Ace see that.
Then there’s some weird shit going on within the MC that I haven’t been able to think through clearly. The missing money, the way Hector sometimes seems a step ahead of us. It doesn’t make sense, and the only thing that does is un-fucking-thinkable. That is my last conscious thought before sleep claims me for a few comfortable hours.
I wake up with Gia’s panty-clad body pressing against mine, my morning wood hard and aching between her thighs. Only the smallest scrap of lace and cotton stand between us both getting exactly what we want, and I bite back a groan when she wiggles closer.