Vice (The Untouchables MC #8) Read Online Joanna Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, Mafia, MC Tags Authors: Series: The Untouchables MC Series by Joanna Blake
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Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
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A need I knew would not be met anytime soon.

“Here, put this on, too,” I said, offering her the matching robe. I hated myself in that moment. Hated myself for being so Goddamned noble. When the truth was all I really wanted to do was rip that white cotton nightie off of her gorgeous body and bury myself inside her for the rest of my life.

“Sit,” I commanded.

She sat.

“You’re scraped up pretty bad,” I said gruffly as I knelt in front of her, gently lifting the hem of the nightie to examine her knees. “How did this happen?”

“I… jumped from a fire escape,” she said, biting her lip while I tried to ignore how close her creamy thighs were. The lower half of her legs were alluring enough. I wanted to bite the curve of her gorgeous calves. “It doesn’t sound real. Saying that out loud.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you,” I said solemnly. And I was. Even though I wouldn’t have met her if she wasn’t in this particular predicament.

“Thank you…” she looked surprised. I smiled slightly at her manners. She was such a little lady. So polite. So feminine.

I lifted her nightie a little higher so I could tend to her knees, grinding my teeth against the desire to run my hands up her thighs to the sweetness resting between them. I hated that she was hurting. I hated that she had to run. To be afraid. To suffer.

And I was here to make sure it never happened again.

I dabbed a peroxide soaked cotton ball against her knee. The stripes of raw skin were already scabbing over and didn’t look infected. The other knee was in far worse shape. It must have taken most of the brunt of her fall. She winced as I cleaned her wounds, but said nothing. I wanted to kiss the pain away, like she was a little girl.

She practically is a little girl, you creepy old perv.

But she wasn’t. Not really. She was a grown woman. A woman who had no idea of the thoughts racing through my head.

I dabbed some antibacterial cream on her knees and frowned. They would be impossible to bandage, and I wasn’t really sure there was a point. I was kneeling at her feet when I noticed her hands.

I grabbed them and turned them over. She had lost a fair bit of skin on her palms.

“This was all from two days ago?” I asked, trying to gentle my voice. I was getting upset. I had to remind myself that she was safe now. That she was mine.

She nodded, trying to tug her hands away.

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt,” she said in that faint, oh-so-sexy accent of hers. “I was just trying to stay on the move. Someone tried to break into my room.”

“I know.”

“How did you know?”

“I went to the hotel.” Her jaw dropped. “If I ever find the person who tried to hurt you, I will make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

She studied me in silence for a moment.

“How did you know? How did you find me? I was so careful…” she trailed off, not resisting this time as I turned her palms over in her lap.

“There are cameras everywhere. That’s how we found you. Facial recognition. Our equipment is state of the art but anyone else looking will not be far behind us,” I said, not sure why I was telling her. I didn’t want to give her more tools to run. But if something ever happened to me… maybe it would be better if she knew how to protect herself. If she had a backup plan only myself and my team knew about.

And like that, I had a new plan to execute.

“Even with sunglasses and a hat?”

“Yes. You are noticeable, even then. You would attract attention in a potato sack.”

I wrapped her hands in loose gauze and told her to get into bed. She complied and I leaned over pulling the covers up and over her, robe and all. I couldn’t risk telling her to take it off again.

She was just too desirable and I was at my limit. A man only had so much control before he snapped.

“I’m not a child,” she protested as I tucked her in. I ignored her, grabbing her bag.

“I’m taking this.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t have to chase you down again.”

“I’m too tired to run,” she said, giving me an adorably stubborn look. I chuckled.

“I know you are. Tonight. Tomorrow is another story thought, isn’t it?”

I took her bag and went downstairs to call Trace, ignoring the lust that made me want to go back upstairs, rip off that nightie, and prove once and for all that she was, in fact, not a little girl any longer.

Prove it to us both.

Instead I made a pot of very strong coffee and started working on my new plan. My goal? To make her self sufficient enough to survive in case we were separated, or her family got to me. I got to work on a multi-prong escape plan and self defense training program.



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