Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
I know most of the world doesn't agree. Even in an age where we're told every body is beautiful, being a curvy woman is still frowned upon. We're still told that we take up too much space or that we should shrink ourselves because it makes others more comfortable. As if the size of my ass is a more pressing problem than the shameful things we do and say to one another in the name of fitting in.
"There isn't a damn thing wrong with your size," Bronx growls, his dark gaze crawling over me again. Only, this time, I actually see the blatant admiration in his eyes. The look on his face is pure sex, as if he knows exactly what'll happen to me inside the club because it's the same thing he wants to do to me.
Holy crap. He isn't just being difficult for the fun of it. He's…jealous?
That realization sends me reeling. Bronx Kaiser likes me.
I do a mental dance. It's probably best not to risk trying to bust a move in these heels. And then I consider my options. Frankly, I'd rather spend the night getting to know him than roaming the halls of the Sterling Rope alone. He's checking all my boxes. But he's awfully determined to keep me out of the club, which only makes me want in all that much more.
I hate being told no.
I make a split-second decision, hoping it plays out in my favor and he calls me on my bluff.
"Well, I guess since you aren't going to let me inside, I'll just go somewhere else and find someone else to play with tonight." I waggle my fingers at him. "Goodnight, Bronx."
Before I even make it to the front door, he's behind me, his arm around my waist as he hauls me back against him. I gasp as the same amber and musk scent from earlier overwhelms my senses. His erection presses into the small of my back as his lips land against my ear, his hot breath pelting my skin.
Oh my gosh.
I can't believe that actually worked.
"Don't even fucking think about it," he snarls. "If anyone touches you, they'll be picking their teeth up from the fucking floor in pieces." His free hand slides between my breasts and then up my throat before oh so slowly turning my head to the side.
I don't move. I barely breathe. I'm not even sure my heart beats at the moment. Every single ounce of attention I have is focused on the man wrapped around me like he owns me…and on the inferno raging through me. Sweet Jesus. He's like an electric storm setting fires to entire acres of my body. They fall under his spell one by one.
"When we go inside, you speak only to me. You don't touch anyone. No one touches you. Your clothes stay on." His rumbling growl rises in intensity. "And if you even fucking think about volunteering to participate in anything you see, you'll be bent over my knee, paying for it. Understood?"
An image of me bent over his knee with his hand on my bare ass pops into my head, sending a tidal wave of lust slamming into me. I want it. So badly I tremble for it. I want this man in charge of me, commanding me, spanking me, teaching me. And I think I'm willing to be more than a little bit bad to get it.
"Understood," I whisper, already knowing I'm going to break his rules tonight…and praying I break him when I do.
Chapter Two
Bronx
Gemma Marsh is one hell of a dilemma. The last I heard; she was just a kid. Clearly, she's grown way the fuck up since her brother and I played college ball because there's nothing childlike about the knockout standing in front of me. She's stunning from the top of her dainty blonde head to her high-heeled feet.
Even in the damn shoes, she barely clears my shoulder. She's fucking tiny, with curves sweet enough to make a man sweat.
Garrett is going to lose his mind if he ever finds out she was here. He'll definitely lose his shit if he finds out that I'm the motherfucker who let her through the doors. But I'm letting her through anyway.
It's a necessity at this point. She's got trouble written all over her, and I'm not stupid enough to risk giving her time to follow through on her threat to find someone else to play with tonight.
If she wants to play, it'll be with me. I made that decision about two seconds after she stepped into the foyer.
I want her in my bed, on my cock, and in my ropes. I'll tear the goddamn club down before I allow anyone else to touch her. That's new.
Once upon a time, I thought I could find what I was looking for within these walls. I came here looking for…peace. For my one. For something. I don't even fucking know anymore. Whatever it was, I didn't find it.