Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
I’m prepared to open my mouth and tell the truth when both of his muscled arms have me caged in on both sides. His mouth is right next to mine and if he kisses me, I’ll be quiet and let him do anything he wants.
Instead he says, “You’re fired.”
AXEL
To say this has been a fucked week would be an understatement. Walking into the clubhouse, all I want is to take a shower—a cold shower—and get high and play my guitar. Maybe have a club bunny blow me and play my guitar some more.
Ryder sticks his head out from the conference room. “Prez needs to talk to you.”
“Someone dead?”
“No.”
“Then I’m taking a shower.” I breeze past him up the stairs.
“How much longer until you’re off your period?” he yells up to me. I ignore him because I don’t give a shit.
So, I’ve been a dick this last week. I’ve had a lot of shit to deal with. Starting with plumbing issues at the Pussycat. Then, Derrick deciding he’s feeling good enough to micromanage from his phone and constantly FaceTiming me.
Let’s not forget Crystal. At least she’s consistent.
A bitch.
She walks around all day acting like I’m the devil since I fired her “favorite girl.” Fucking joke. She doesn’t even know Antoinette.
A quick flash of something that might be regret flows through me. I push it aside as I bang my door open. The cool air from the air conditioner hits me like a welcome friend, along with the fresh clean smell of bleach.
I don’t regret firing her because I don’t have regrets. It’s more like an adrenaline rush that I get when I think about her. I guess that’s what’s been hanging over my head the past week and it’s made me impatient.
I’m pissed that I’m still thinking about her. It’s not like I’ll ever see her again. But every time I close my eyes, I do see her. Fuck, even her smell haunts me.
I need a shower, and food. Guess tonight’s the night I sample Rip’s new weed. He’s been asking me to test it. Fuck, I hope it gets me happy and high.
But first, I need to get Blade and Ryder up to date.
I toss my dirty shoes in the corner and strip out of the dusty clothes. I was on the road for a solid five hours today, having to deal with one of my grow houses. I have many—they’re spread out all over Southern California. This particular one was robbed. Someone fucking robbed me. It’s starting to feel personal. Yet, the person I’m suspecting should be targeting Blade, not me.
Unless he doesn’t know that Blade and the Disciples have nothing to do with my weed. It doesn’t matter. He’s a dead man. Should’ve been a dead man years ago…
I turn on the shower and try to clear my head as I step in and let the cool water wash away the dirt and grime of the road. My mind goes over all that I need to do.
Lifting my head, I let the water hit my face while I prepare to tell Blade that I’m 90 percent sure his brother-in-law is behind all this. Eve likes to say Benny means nothing to her, but her actions speak for themselves.
Flipping off the water, I hesitate as I lay my head on the cool tile. “Fuck it,” I mumble, giving in. I’m so tired of pretending that I didn’t want this girl.
I’m not a liar.
I wanted her.
I wanted to fuck her more than I have wanted to fuck any woman, mark her in the most primal way. Rolling my forehead to the side, I reach for my cock. It’s throbbing and ready for my hand.
“Yeah.” I see her.
Her blond hair spills around her face as my hands wrap around the base and I jerk myself off to that vision.
She groans and whispers, Mitchell. It should be something that I correct, but I like it coming out of her plump lips. With her head thrown back, her body lying across my desk… it’s as if she’s offering herself to me.
“Fuck,” I grunt, jerking myself hard and rough, almost painfully chasing the pleasure. While I rub my balls with my right hand, I continue stroking my cock with the other. My groans echo around the black-tiled walls and my stomach muscles tighten. As my leg muscles lock up, I lean back and open my eyes to watch while I explode.
“Jesus,” I hiss, my body jerking out hot milky strands that splatter on my toes and cover the shower wall. I let my breath steady before I turn on the water to clean myself up.
Stepping out of the shower, I feel slightly better. But I need to remind Rip about a couple of things, starting with the weed, so I pick up my phone and fire off a text.