Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Within seconds, his lips were on hers and she couldn’t help but moan as he took possession of her lips. She put her hands on his chest, once again marveling at the sheer strength beneath her palms. Slowly, she slid them around his neck, drawing her body flush against his. His tongue traced across her lips, and she felt that tingle going straight to her core.
All she wanted do was wrap her legs around his waist and bring friction against her pussy. She needed to be touched, but she also knew she was crazy to want that, so she quickly pulled away.
“That is just a taste of what’s to come.”
****
Road arrived back at the clubhouse, feeling a little lighter in his step.
“I thought you’d be in a shittier mood,” Sarge said the moment he passed him, going toward the back of the clubhouse to where his room was located.
“And why would that be?”
“Brute’s orders are we’re to back off for now, and that hasn’t changed.”
He tensed up. Nikki and his meddling bullshit ways. “What?”
“You heard,” Sarge said. “I was the one that got the shortest stick, to come and stop your ass from losing your shit.”
“Where’s Brute?”
“In his office with Faith, you know you can’t go in there.”
Road didn’t give a fuck what he could and couldn’t do. He needed to see Brute, and it had to be fucking now. He was furious. He understood not going in right away after Nikki’s request, but they were the ones that finally had the Bratva on the short noose.
Storming into Brute’s office, he wasn’t surprised to see Faith sitting on one of the sofas with Brute between her thighs, kissing her naked stomach. Brute had shoved up her shirt until it was beneath her breasts, but the moment he stormed in, she started to scramble to cover her stomach. He didn’t give a fuck about her pregnant stomach. The only person he wanted to see was Brute.
“What the fuck?” Brute asked, getting to his feet.
“You’re backing away? You’re getting cold feet?” he asked.
“Uh, I guess this is my cue to go,” Faith said, getting to her feet.
“Sit,” Brute said. He glared past his shoulder at Sarge. “I thought I told you to control him.”
“Dude, I did what I could, but it seems he didn’t get the updated memo.”
Road wasn’t interested in what Sarge had to say. He was far more interested in what was not going on at the club.
“Is that what you’re trying to do? Control me?”
“Damn it, Road, you know there’s a time and place for everything.”
He snorted. “Holy shit, you are getting cold feet, aren’t you? Why? Scared the Golubev will come and rape your woman? Steal your kid? Guess what, they’ve done all those things.” Road took a step closer toward Brute. “I guess you don’t even know who you’re dealing with.”
“And you think you do?”
“I know who I am dealing with,” Road said. “I was his right-hand man for a long time, Brute. You know what you know, but on the surface you know nothing.”
“Get out,” Brute said.
“You think she is safe by backing down. All you’re doing is saving Nikki’s ass, because he’s getting fuck all done. You’re messing up our chance. You continue to hit Golubev where it hurts—all the fucking time—until you finally get your chance to end him, and then, one by one, you watch them all fall. You think you’re doing the right thing.” He shook his head and looked at Faith. “She doesn’t stand a chance unless you’re willing to have some balls to save her.”
He expected the blow to the face, and he welcomed it. The truth was, there was no point in fighting Brute. Golubev had won. It was just a matter of time before he took them all out.
He shook his head, wiping the blood from his mouth. Road had known true pain, true torture, and he stared at the blood. Turning on his heel, he walked out of Brute’s office, and then, rather than going to his bedroom, he went straight to his bike.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Hail asked, coming out to him. “What are you doing?”
“Get the fuck back,” he said. Road wasn’t interested in making conversation right now. He needed to clear his head, and there was only one place he wanted to be.
Climbing onto his bike, he watched as several of the guys came out of the clubhouse and watched him leave. He didn’t know if any of them were going to follow him, and if he was honest, he didn’t give a fuck. None of them knew.
Yes, the Golubev Bratva had fucked them up in ways people couldn’t imagine, but Brute should have known better. Road certainly did. Sergey Golubev didn’t inspire peace. They had attacked him where it hurt the most, and the consequences for what they had done were going to come back and bite them in the ass. There was no doubt about it.