Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“If you need a good fuck, then I’m available. And I’ll let you dance on my lap all you want to. No business is too important to interrupt that.”
Dead. He’s fucking dead.
CHAPTER 15
MAYA
My eyes do a quick sweep of Drake. Lean. Sexy. Witty. And very easygoing.
He’s not a pretty boy, but he looks more like a lover than a fighter. And fighters turn me on more than lovers.
Heh. Maybe that’s my problem.
Terrible taste in men.
Before I can turn down his random offer, the door swings open, and Drake jerks in his seat as I squeal and leap to my feet. I’m running on instinct when I race for the back room, but a strong arm sweeps around my middle, ripping me off the ground as Axle ends my hiding time and slams me against his body. I spin around, facing him as I take in his angry features.
My hands grip the black fabric of his shirt as I glare up at him, but his attention is focused on Drake.
I hope I didn’t just get Drake into trouble.
I turn and look over my shoulder to see an amused smile on Drake’s lips, which has me relaxing, since he doesn’t seem concerned. Drake is half the body mass of that beast Axle took down with one punch earlier. It might break him.
Even though he’s not too much leaner than Axle, he’s not as mean. You can see that without needing insight into the world I’ve grown up in. Like I said, more lover than fighter, that one.
“Wouldn’t hurt a guy on crutches, would you?” Drake asks, gesturing to the crutches beside him.
Axle points a finger at him. “Don’t fuck with this one. She’s not Eve. She’s not some sweet girl mixed up in bad shit. Whatever she told you, you need to forget it. Fast. Because her secrets will get you killed if people link you to her.”
Obviously Axle thinks I just run my mouth to everyone I meet.
Drake’s smile wanes before falling, and I wink at him. “Bet you’re glad I didn’t tell you my secrets now, huh?”
He looks at me like I’ve sprouted a second head. “Fucking hell, woman. You’d better not get me killed,” he finally says around a long exhale.
“Nah. I’ll make sure you live if the time comes for survival measures,” I assure him, which has his eyebrows going up in confusion.
Axle seems to relax a little now that he knows I’m not affected by verbal diarrhea, but that arm stays firmly fixed around my waist. His gaze sweeps down to my face as his eyes narrow.
“The hell were you thinking?” he snaps.
I open my mouth to call him a few less than charitable names, when Drake butts in.
“She was thinking you’re a cunt tease,” Drake says dryly.
I glare over my shoulder to see him sketching again, no expression on his face.
Rolling my eyes, I look up at Axle once more, and find him arching an eyebrow at me in question.
“I think you’re a disrespecting prick who likes to make me feel like an idiot when the mood strikes. I also think you enjoy toying with me, though I don’t know what purpose it serves other than to be an asshole. That’s what I was thinking, because I don’t need this right now.”
Axle flicks his gaze to Drake as a small chuckle follows that little rant. Axle’s obviously not the one chuckling.
“She’s feisty. I like that. Most girls just wither and shiver in your presence. Not sure why your cock is on a mission to avoid the pretty kitty.” Drake should never try to write poetry.
Instead of saying anything, Axle releases me suddenly, and just as quickly, he bends and I’m airborne. A surprised squeal bubbles out of me when I realize I’m folded over the barbarian’s shoulder, and he turns and walks out, careful not to bash my head on anything as he moves through the doorway.
“Nice chat. Stop by any time,” Drake says as I steady myself on Axle’s shoulder by gripping his back.
I blow a strip of hair out of my face and glare at Drake as the cheeky dick grins at me.
Axle leaves the door open, and he walks us quickly across the narrow street to go inside the clubhouse, where the party is still raging on. As soon as we walk in, howls and whistles erupt.
I expect him to put me down, but he jogs up the stairs instead, as I bobble helplessly on his shoulder. He doesn’t put me down until we’re in the bedroom, and instead of gently standing me on my feet, the bastard drops me to the bed.
A grunt pops out of me when I hit, and I keep my eyes in angry mode as I stay put.
Does he seriously look amused right now?
Oh, I take it back; I’ve never held any interest in being the brute force of my family’s operation, but I’d totally blow out a couple of kneecaps right now.