Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“You have a big mouth.”
I see he has leaned too far down into the bleach solution and the end of his hair is sopping wet. I grin. “And you’re going to have poorly colored hair in about two minutes.”
He looks confused, then glances down, realizes what’s happened and curses out loud.
“What the fuck? Get it out.”
I begin laughing, because, well, fuck him anyway.
“Why are you just standing there?” he growls, grabbing a nearby towel and using it to squeeze the bleach from his hair.
“That won’t stop it from processing,” I laugh, trying to smother it with no luck.
“Then what the fuck will stop it?”
“Wash it.” I giggle.
“Fuck. Where is your shampoo?”
I laugh harder.
“This isn’t fuckin’ funny, where is it?”
“I don’t have any.”
“What the fuck do you mean you don’t have any?”
“You dicks won’t take me shopping, I only very basic essentials and someone forgot shampoo was one of them.”
“Quit fuckin’ laughin’ and do somethin’.”
My body is shaking with laughter as I grab his arm and drag him toward the kitchen.
“Put your head over the sink.”
He does as I ask, and I take the clump of hair and start washing it with dish soap.
“What the actual fuck?” he growls, watching as I lather it up.
“It’s all we’ve got, deal with it.”
“That’ll kill my hair.”
I laugh louder. “You’re a biker, you shouldn’t even have hair.”
“Fuck you.”
“Princess.”
He growls something under his breath, but I lather up his hair a few more times and rinse it out. Regardless of my excellent effort in rinsing his hair, that bleach mix is strong and I can already see he’s going to have a pretty dramatic color change in the area that it touched. I bite my lip as I dry it off.
“How do you feel about a haircut?” I ask.
His eyes widen. “What the fuck did you do to my hair?”
I raise a finger. “I did nothing to your hair. You did that yourself. I tried to help, but that mix is strong and it’ll change color even though we rinsed it.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Fuck this. I can’t do this with you.”
I roll my eyes. “Then send someone else, or better yet, let me go on my way and do it yourselves.”
“You owe us.”
“You owe us,” I mock in a baby voice. “Stop whining about it. I helped you.”
“You’ve got the fuckin’ cartel after you.”
Right.
There is that.
“Well, I’ll change my appearance, name, and start again somewhere else.”
His eyes lock onto mine. “You think that’s enough to get them off your back?”
“Nope.”
He shakes his head. “I’m done here today.”
Of course he’s done.
He gets whatever he wants.
I don’t get a damned choice.
Asshole.
“HIT ME AGAIN, SISTER,” I say, holding my glass out to Eve who has the bottle of vodka in her hand. “It’s not every day a girl gets to drink freely.”
“That bad being held against your will, huh?” Ramona asks. “Maybe you should make it sexy. Start having sex with Beckett, that’ll pass the time.”
I grunt. “Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind. I am in desperate need of sex, but he’s just so angry. I’m not sure I’d like it.”
“That could make it better,” Eve suggests. “Just imagine all the tugging and pulling, the rough handling ...”
“Is this my fantasy or yours?” I laugh.
She grins. “I think you should consider it, it’ll pass the time quicker and Beckett might just get happier.”
“What are you girls yabberin’ about?”
One of the club members, Remy, walks over and sits down beside Eve. He’s super good looking and the only one of them at this stage that seems super easy going. He’s funny, too.
“We’re trying to convince our girl Poppy to jump on the Beckett train,” Ramona tells Remy. “What do you think?”
“Fuckin’ do it, girl, that man hasn’t fucked in a while, far as I know.”
My brows go up. “Seriously? Why?”
Remy shrugs. “Fucks me. He was seein’ some chick for a while, never introduced her, it was all on the side. Somethin’ happened and he’s been an angry wanker ever since.”
“Ohhh,” I say, wiggling my brows. “That’s juicy.”
“Don’t go shit stirrin’,” Remy warns.
I grin and look to Eve. “What are your thoughts on this?”
“Heartbreak?”
“Oh, an affair!” Ramona claps.
“That could be it.” I grin. “We should find out.”
Remy exhales. “You girls are fucked. Leave the man alone. Give him some pussy and get him through it, that’s as far as you should go.”
“My pussy isn’t heartbreak recovery, thank you very much,” I say to Remy.
He grins. “Then what is it, honey?”
“It’s pure fucking gold.”
He chuckles and stands. “That’s my cue. Behave, you three.”
He disappears, and I turn back to the girls. “Let’s do some digging!”
It would be nice to know a little juice on Beckett. It might help me understand why he’s such a huge dick.
“He’s VP of the club, he’s pretty high up in the ranks. Maybe he’s dealing with that sort of crap.” Ramona shrugs. “Maybe it has nothing to do with a woman.”