Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67975 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Cohen frowns. “Risky business, havin’ a cop on our side.”
“Better with us than against us.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs.
“Anyway, I got a job this afternoon. Six hours. Won’t be back until dark. You see Briella, you tell her I’m at the shop.”
Cohen nods, and I stand, crushing out my cigarette and leaving the clubhouse.
I make my way to King’s Ink and unlock the doors, flicking on the lights and setting up my workstation. Ten minutes later, Jo rolls in. She looks flustered, like she’s just been for a jog, but from what I know of Jo, she doesn’t fuckin’ jog.
“What’s got you hot and bothered?” I murmur, setting up my tattoo gun.
“There’s a man outside, and I don’t know, he was totally creepy. When I tried to park my car and get out, he just stood there, staring at me, and wouldn’t move from the parking lot. I freaked out and drove a few blocks down and ran. That’s why I’m late.”
I lift my head and stare at her. “In our parking lot?”
She nods. “Yeah, he was just kind of standing there, looking at the back of the shop. When I pulled in, he made it clear he wasn’t going to move. The look on his face freaked me out, and I was certain I was going to get attacked or something.”
“Should have called me, Jo,” I say, putting the tattoo gun down and striding out the back.
I reach the back door, shove it open, and look around the parking lot that currently has my car, and some other car sitting quietly in it. I scan the area, but there is nobody around. Probably someone just walking by, maybe lost, but with the way things are right now, I can’t be too fucking sure of anything.
Nothing feels right in this present time.
I walk back into the shop, locking the door, and then head back out front where Jo is setting up her station.
“Was there anyone there?” she asks.
“Nobody. What did this guy look like?”
“He was tall, really handsome, black hair, lots of ink. He had creepy eyes though.”
I nod, but nobody comes to mind with her description. None of us currently know what this mysterious Dax looks like, but we do know that Constable Bennett is working with him. Could be keeping an eye out after Briella went into the station before Magnolia showed up dead and confronted him. Chances are, word has gotten out that we’re investigating, which can make things fucking dangerous for us.
Whoever it was, they don’t make me feel fucking right.
Everything is about to blow up.
I just fucking know it.
I STARE AT BRIELLA, leaning over the pool table to collect the balls and put them back in the barrier. She does this often, she likes them all to be in the little triangle mold, so that when someone wants to play, they don’t have to dig them out. She’s always flittering around the clubhouse, cleaning shit up, kicking the whores out, and making sure everything runs smoothly.
She knows this world, this life.
She knows how it works.
I walk up behind her, my eyes trained on her perky ass as she leans over. She’s gorgeous, curvy, and fucking hot. My hands go down and I take a big palm full of her backside in each. She gasps and jerks backward, but using the force of my body, I keep her pinned in spot.
“Remember what I was saying earlier about fuckin’ you on this pool table?” I growl into her ear.
She shudders, and I can see her skin prickle, tiny little bumps rising on the surface.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” she whispers, her voice low and husky.
“Turn around,” I growl.
I need to taste her more than I need the beer I’ve been thinking about all afternoon. God, do I need my mouth in her pussy, licking until she’s screaming, knowing anybody could come in at any second. One of these days now, our world is going to blow up around us, so for right now, having her is the only thing I need.
Briella does as I ask, turning around until she’s looking up at me beneath those thick, beautiful lashes. I reach for her face, cupping her cheek, loving the way her skin is so fucking soft beneath my palm. She’s a god damned angel, and there isn’t a single fucking thing about her I’d change. Not a single fuckin’ thing. Not even that scar on her head that’s now part of who she is in such a big fucking way I don’t even think she gets it.
“Lean back.”
She doesn’t fight me. Her cheeks grow pink as she leans back and I lift her slightly, letting her fall back onto the pool table. I’ve eaten pussy here before, we’re a club, it’s what we do, but none as sweet as the girl I love. King always said it was different—never believed him until my heart became hers. Only then did I realize the other encounters I had were nothing on her. Nothing at all.