Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 129756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Is it my fault you’re the size of one? I think not.”
Vinnie sighed. “Elle, Damian, enough.” He looked at his son. “Your sister is not fat, so stop with that shit. Elle, your brother is not—”
“The personification of pure evil?” Elle sniffed. “I disagree.”
Damian’s upper lip curled. “Drop dead, Jelly Thighs!”
“Screw you, Beelzebub!”
“Hey, hey, hey, enough.” Vinnie slashed a hand through the air. “We’re done here. Oh, and you’ll both be replacing the clothes you slashed.”
Mumbling and huffing, Elle and Damian marched out of the room and headed off in separate directions.
Vinnie turned to Dominic. “I gave this advice to Bracken, and now I’m going to give it to you. Either only have one kit with Mila or wait a decade before having a second. Pallas kits don’t get along well with siblings of a similar age. Really, given that Mila and Alex are twins, it’s a wonder they didn’t kill each other as kids.”
“We tried,” admitted Mila.
“Yeah, so did we,” said Tate, gesturing at his brother.
Luke nodded. “Multiple times. I nearly succeeded when I pushed him off the roof, hoping it’d look like suicide. The bastard had put rat poison in my pudding.”
Tate shrugged. “Listening to you vomit was better than listening to you breathe.”
Mila gave Dominic a mockingly sweet smile. “See what a bright future you have to look forward to?”
Chuckling, Dominic kissed her temple. “Works for me.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Dipping the string mop into the plastic bucket, Mila yawned. She’d knocked down the freaking tub of shaving cream while tidying her station, and she totally blamed Dominic. If he hadn’t repeatedly woken her throughout the night with his insatiable cock, she wouldn’t be so damn lethargic. She couldn’t help but snarl when he came up behind her.
Snaking his arms around her waist, he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Tired, baby?” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“And whose fault is that?” she clipped, wringing the soapy water out of the mop using the bucket’s built-in wringer.
“You weren’t complaining last night. In fact, you were moaning. Groaning. Whimpering. Almost sobbing at one point.”
Mopping up more of the spilled cream, she sniffed haughtily. “I don’t sob. Or whimper.”
“Oh, you definitely whimper.” He nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. “And you came very close to sobbing when I spent a good twenty minutes just working your clit with my tongue, refusing to touch you anywhere else.”
Fuck if he wasn’t right. But she’d never admit it aloud. “Perhaps you lie to comfort yourself—I’m not sure.”
He nipped at her neck. “You know I’m not lying, just as you know you’re getting turned on just remembering it.”
Dammit, she was. “Wrong again.”
“Really? Hmm. Then these must be Tic Tacs in your bra, huh?”
A chuckle burst out of her. “Fuck you, GQ.”
His shoulders shaking with muffled laughter, he kissed her neck. “I’ll get you some coffee.” Releasing her, he turned to Archie and Evander. “Anyone else want coffee?” The two male cats called out their orders as Dominic strode into the break room.
Shaking her head, she went back to mopping the floor. She needed to hurry her ass up, since Dean was waiting on the sofa.
She dipped the mop in the bucket again just as the door opened and let in a gust of street noise. She flashed a polite smile at the stocky hyena shifter who was one of Archie’s regular clients. “Archie, your three thirty is here,” she called out.
The hyena rolled his eyes at her. “Will you never refer to me by my name?”
“When you insist that your name is Hambone, no, I can’t call a grown man that.”
Dean let out an amused snort. “Yeah, I’m with Mila on that one.”
Archie summoned his client over, so Mila quickly warned him, “Careful, the floor’s wet.” As the hyena sidestepped the wet spot, the door once again swung open. A woman stepped inside and glanced around, seeming unsure, tugging at her black curls restlessly.
“Hi, do you have an appointment?” Mila asked.
The woman’s eyes snapped to Mila, momentarily flaring with something dark. “Um, no,” she replied. “I just wondered if you could take a look at this for me.” She dug her hand into a brown paper bag, seemed to angle the bag toward Mila and—
Thunder rang through the air. A harsh impact slammed into Mila just as red-hot pain exploded in the left side of her chest. She recoiled in shock, her mouth dropping open, her feet slipping on the wet floor. Not thunder, she thought as she fell. Not thunder. Fuck.
Gunfire split the air, making Dominic’s heart slam against his ribs. He raced out of the break room and into the barbershop . . . just in time to watch Mila lose her footing and awkwardly fall backward. She hissed, and as if weighed down by pain, crumpled onto her back. The scents of blood and gunpowder tainted the air. Mila’s blood. It seemed to clog his nostrils and churn his stomach, sending his wolf into a blind panic. And for a single moment, Dominic’s world stopped.