Wrath – Satan’s Fury MC Read Online L. Wilder

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“Well, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you two hadn’t come.”

“Glad to help. Besides, now I got some war wounds, and chicks dig war wounds.”

I giggled with a nod. “That they do.”

“You don’t gotta worry about Wrath. He and the boys will be back any minute.”

“I certainly hope so.” The mention of their return had me eager to check the window, so I gave Riley a warm smile and said, “I’ll let you get some rest, but just give me a shout if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks.”

With that, I left the infirmary and went to my room, then directly over to my window. My heart sank when I didn’t see any sign of the guys. I was about to go back over to my bed but stopped when I heard the familiar sound of my father’s SUV. I leaned in for a closer look, and relief washed over me when I saw that he and the others were pulling through the gate.

I wanted to rush outside and make sure they were all okay, but I knew that wasn’t an option.

I would just have to hold out and wait for Wrath to come to me.

I lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, counting the minutes until Wrath walked through my door. Only, he didn’t come walking through that door. It had been over an hour, and there had been no sign of him.

My patience had run thin, and I couldn’t stand to stay holed up in my bedroom a second longer. I opened my door and had barely stepped into the hall when I spotted Rooster. He was heading towards the bar when I shouted, “Hey, Roost!”

“Yeah?”

He stopped and turned to face me as I asked, “Have you seen Wrath?”

“Pretty sure he just went to his room.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Without saying anything more, I turned and charged down the hall. When I got to Wrath’s room, I tapped on the door, but he didn’t answer. I tapped again, harder this time, and when he didn’t answer this time, I opened his door and called out to him, “Wrath?”

I waited a moment for him to respond, and that’s when I heard the shower running. I could’ve sat down on the bed and just waited for him, but I didn’t. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt the need to go to him, so I did.

I walked into that bathroom, and I found Wrath standing in the shower with his palms resting flat on the cold tile and his head bent down. The hot water was cascading down over his head and shoulders, and he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice that I’d walked in. I kicked off my shoes and slipped off my sweats, but I left on my t-shirt and underwear as I stepped inside behind him.

I reached up behind him, placed the palm of my hand on his back, and whispered, “Are you okay?”

Startled, he jerked head around and calmed the second he saw me. “Yeah, I just needed a minute.”

“Can I stay?”

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

I took that as a yes and remained planted behind him, watching as the water cascaded down his muscular back. He was covered in tattoos, front and back. They helped to hide the scars, but I knew they were there. I’d felt them. I’d seen them—just like I was seeing the angry wound on his bicep now. It was a shallow, elongated laceration that was about three inches in length.

The skin around it was red and angry, reminding me of a burn.

The sight tore at my heart, but I didn’t freak out.

I’d seen a wound like that before. I knew it was a bullet graze, and that scared me. But I remained strong. I kept my emotions in check and didn’t even ask him what happened. I simply reached for a bottle of soap and poured a small amount onto my hand. I lathered it gently, tenderly washing his back and down his arms, paying extra attention to his wound.

I was gentle, ensuring it was cleaned without causing him any further discomfort. I couldn’t help but notice the tension in his muscles seemed to be subsiding. I began to wash his hair, carefully massaging his scalp and allowing the water to rinse away the traces of chaos he’d endured.

I’d washed every inch of him and was about to start again when Wrath reached down and turned off the water. I quickly opened the door and reached for a towel, carefully helping him dry off. As soon as I was done, I whispered, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He nodded, then stepped out of the room.

I removed my wet t-shirt and bra, then took a second to dry off. Once I was done, I wrapped the towel around me and went to join Wrath in the bedroom. When I walked in, I found him standing by the foot of the bed. He was wearing a pair of low-hanging sleep pants that showed off his well-defined V and nothing else, leaving the rest of his gorgeous, muscular torso bare.



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