Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
And maybe he’ll trust me enough to answer my questions.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dex
I hate like hell rolling out of Emily’s bed the next morning. It took a while to get here. Leaving seems like spitting in the face of destiny or some shit. But I can’t miss church. Other than being out on the road or stuck at Crystal Ball with some emergency, I never miss church.
I stare at Wrath’s text.
Church. Noon.
Wrath’s not one to waste words.
I need to leave soon if I’m going to be on time. Showing up late will only get me fined and ridiculed by my brothers.
“Do you have to go?” Emily whispers, sitting up next to me.
Christ, she’s making this harder—all rumpled and sleepy. Still modest, though. Pressing the sheet to her chest like a football team’s about to burst through her bedroom door.
“Got church,” I answer. “Have to be there.”
Her forehead wrinkles. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I didn’t think you were the religious type.”
I can’t quite tell if she’s serious or not. Turning my head, I study her face. Last night I took her comment the wrong way—proof I really have no business getting into a relationship with her or anyone else.
But she’s too damn tempting. I roll to my knees and rip the sheet off her, pushing her flat to the mattress. “I’m not.” I drop kisses on her forehead and cheeks. “Only place I want to worship is here.” I press a kiss to her lips, then slide lower. I curl my hands around her breasts and pause to suck at each nipple. “Here.”
“Oh.” She laughs softly and runs her fingers through my hair.
“I’m not done.” I keep kissing my way down her body.
“I get it! I get it!” She giggles and squirms to sit up again. “My temple is closed this morning.”
I rest my forehead on her knee and shake with laughter. “You catch on quick.”
She reaches down and runs her fingers through my hair. “Tell me more about church?”
That question stops me from burying my face in her pussy. I lift my head and meet her inquiring eyes. “What do you want to know?” I ask carefully.
“Do you all get together to worship at the altar of Harley-Davidson?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Confess your sins of the week?”
“None of my brothers are equipped to handle that.” I snort with laughter. “We’re our brothers’ keepers, not their priests.”
“Brother’s keeper, huh.” She tilts her head, staring toward the window. “That’s nice.”
“Nice? None of us are nice, sweetheart.”
“That’s not true. Grayson’s nice.”
I let out a short laugh. “To you and Serena maybe. To us, he’s a grumpy fucker.”
She pokes her big toe against my stomach. “That’s mean.”
“The truth is often unkind.” I wrap my fingers around her foot and tug. “Are we done with twenty questions?”
“Twenty? I only asked one and you never answered it.”
“Do we worship at the altar of Harley-Davidson didn’t seem like a genuine question.”
“What is church and why is it such a big deal to be there?”
How can I put it so that her civilian mindset understands? “It’s a club meeting. We discuss club business and whatever else is going on.” There. True but vague.
She nods slowly. “Club business is stuff you can’t talk about with people not part of the club.” It’s a statement, not really a question.
“Right.”
Thankfully my answer seems to satisfy her.
“Come here,” she says, patting the bed next to her.
“I wanted to help you come up with a new morning-morning routine.” I crawl up her body and flop into the warm divot next to her.
She smacks her hand over her face. “I can’t believe I told you that.”
“Why?” Except for the part where she has insomnia, I thought it was fucking adorable. I didn’t want to call a grown-ass woman “cute” but she was.
I pull her hand away from her face. “How’d you sleep last night?”
She shifts, craning her neck so she can look me in the eye. “Good.” Her forehead wrinkles. “Too good.”
I cup her face, running my thumb over her cheek. “Why do you make it sound like a bad thing?”
Her shoulders jerk and she pulls away, dragging the covers with her. “I don’t want to treat you like a big, warm, emotional support blanket. You can’t stay here every night.”
I open my mouth to say, “why the fuck not,” then reconsider. Why make promises I probably can’t keep?
Emily
I don’t quite understand Dex’s need to rush to this club meeting. I mean, it’s a club, a fun thing, a hobby, not life or death. But it seems important. And I’m trying not to be clingy just because we had sex.
While he hops in the shower, I run downstairs to boil water for tea and start the coffee maker. When I return to the bathroom, he’s standing in front of the mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist.