Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“This is what it means to be mine, Angelina.”
He pulled her close, and she relaxed against him.
She stared into his dark, turbulent eyes, knowing this man could have crushed her with just a stare. He was primal and intense, and that feral quality made her feel stable. If she accepted this, did this with him, there was no going back, not from any of this.
Where would I go anyway?
Being free was something she’d never experienced before, never thought she’d actually get to have, even after she’d left home.
“You want me, and I want you. That can’t be wrong.”
As screwed up as this all was, Angelina felt something dark rise in her for this man. She wanted to be with him, wanted to let herself just be free.
“You want freedom, and you can have it, Angelina.”
He looked so hard, so determined.
“Freedom isn’t that easy, Fury.” She was being honest, even with herself. Being with someone didn’t mean her troubles would just vanish. She still had a past, scars that ran deep.
“It’s easy, so fucking easy if you allow yourself to live that way, Angelina.” He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Be with me and I’ll show you.”
Could she actually do this, see where things led with him? It couldn’t hurt.
Her life thus far hadn’t made her feel a fraction of the emotion she felt while with Fury.
That had to mean something, right?
29
Fury sat on the edge of the bed and looked over his shoulder at Angelina. She was asleep on her side, the sheet covering her nude body, and the things he’d said to her replayed through his mind like a broken record.
Yeah, he’d said she was his, that he was claiming her, and although he could blame it on the heat of the moment, the truth was he meant those words. Ever since he saw her for the first time all those weeks ago, something in him had clicked.
He’d tried telling himself over and over again that wanting her was just the sick side of him that wanted to get back at Sal.
And maybe he’d convinced himself of that, in a way, but having her here was so different.
The way she looked at him, spoke to him made him feel like he wasn’t a worthless motherfucker. It wasn’t something he’d ever felt before. He’d always lived for his club, didn’t care what lengths he’d go, or what fucked up things he’d do to make things right, not until this moment.
He didn’t want her hurt, didn’t want Angelina in the middle of this, even if he was the one that had put her here.
Fury let his gaze travel over her arm that was up by her face. His fingers itched to touch her, to see if even in sleep he could make goosebumps rise along her skin, have her body react to him. But in the end, he tightened his hands into fists and got off the bed.
After slipping pants and a T-shirt on he left her in the room sleeping. They’d slept well into early afternoon but hadn’t gone to bed until nearly five in the morning.
He stood in the kitchen and stared at the stove. Hell, he wanted to do something domestic for her, like cook, feed her, make her see he wasn’t just a lowdown motherfucker.
But Fury didn’t cook, and unless she wanted a piece of ham slapped between two pieces of bread, or a shot of whiskey, he’d just end up burning the food. But he could make her a strong cup of coffee.
Fury figured after the night they had, the hit that had gone down the last few days. No doubt she was probably sore—which had him grinning and feeling proud. She’d need a kick-in-the-ass cup of coffee.
He started the pot and stood by the sink staring out the window. The driveway was a long, graveled strip of road that was about half an acre long. There was also a gate that blocked the entry. But the cabin and property were so far off the beaten path, and the nearest town a long fucking ways off, no one came this way unless passing by.
The sound of the coffee dripping into the pot had him looking over at it, his thoughts on Angelina and how he was going to handle this. Fury knew he didn’t want to let her go, not even after all of this.
He wanted to take out her father, though, and that meant he needed to find the fucker.
But was she really okay with Sal Cardona being killed? Fury couldn’t let things be done with the fucker, couldn’t let him get away with hurting his club or Birdie. Fury could have done a lot of things differently. but what was done was done, and there was no turning back.
The sound of shuffling behind him had Fury turning and seeing Angelina standing there in nothing but a blanket. He saw her toes peeking out from under the material. Despite the fact he’d fucked her into oblivion last night and should have been set for at least a day, his cock came right to attention.