Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
After the ‘walk through’ I followed back to the front door, him on the outside, me on the inside, without a word said about the décor, not even a raised eyebrow. I’d been so caught up by having Hades in my house, I hadn’t even thought of the logistics of what tonight would entail. He’d said he was going to be here all night, but where exactly was ‘here’? On my sofa? Or in my office on the daybed that pulled out?
In my bed?
Was he going to demand some kind of sexual payment for the protection detail?
My stomach dropped even thinking about it.
“I’ll be out here all night,” Hades jerked me out of my fantasy, nodding to where his bike was parked beside my car.
Something inside of me loved the way they looked together, despite the situation I’d found myself in. I knew what the barrel of a gun felt like against my temple because of the man who owned that bike.
However, I had also been closer to death tonight than I ever had before in my life. And although I’d thought near-death experiences made you want to hide in a dark room with a bottle of wine while re-watching Gilmore Girls, right now, I really wanted to be fucked by the guy with the cheekbones, the muscle and the ability to kill. Plus, he just so happened to be standing in my driveway.
“You don’t have to stay out here.” My voice sounded slightly husky, need throbbing between my legs.
Hades clenched his fists at his sides, his brows narrowing and his eyes darkening. I knew he did not miss the sex in my tone and the invitation in my eyes.
Hades didn’t answer for a long moment, the tension building in the air, my body taut and coiled, desperate for release. Desperate to give up control to someone. To him. To submit to this man completely.
For a second, he looked like he was going to do just that, right there in the driveway, and I would’ve let him.
“Yes, I do,” he refuted, ice coating his words, his features closing up. “Get back in the house, Freya”
That was an order. It might’ve even been some kind of threat. Danger threaded through his tone, and not the kind I wanted right now. Not the kind that I could handle.
I held onto his gaze for a moment longer, then I turned on my heel and walked inside. I locked the door. Not because I didn’t trust Hades, but because I didn’t trust myself. I had a cold shower then I snuggled up with Sirius, a bottle of wine, a family-sized bag of peanut butter M&M’S and Gilmore Girls. And I got up at least four times during the night. I’d left my floodlights on, to make sure he wasn’t sitting in the dark, even though I got the feeling he might’ve liked that.
Each time I peeked out my window, he was there, smoking, leaning against his bike. There wasn’t a gun in his hand, but I knew he had one. Every time I peeked out my window, his head turned in my direction and we locked eyes from across the courtyard. Like a scared schoolgirl, I darted back to my bed.
Despite the man I suspected Hades was, despite what had happened tonight, when I finally did fall asleep, I slept better than I had in recorded memory. With the enforcer of the Sons of Templar in my driveaway, armed and ready to kill someone.
He was gone when I woke up, a young, attractive man covered with a blond crew cut, tanned skin and muscles now there. Not a tattoo to be seen. He looked more like a J-Crew model than a biker. His name was Anderson, he was twenty-two, had a nice smile and chatted about his pregnant girlfriend, Hannah, over the coffee and pancakes I made for the two of us. They were literally night and day, Anderson and Hades. The bright-eyed, young man with an easy smile and the brooding sex god who spelled destruction.
I went about my day as usual after breakfast, including a walk with Sirius that Anderson accompanied me on, chatting with me the entire time, telling me how he got himself involved with the Sons. Apparently, he’d wanted to join since he was in high school, being a local here and idolizing the Sons like the majority of teenage, wannabe badasses in the area.
He came from a good family who sounded normal and who were horrified over their only beloved son wanting to join a motorcycle club. They’d convinced him to go to college, get out of Garnett, get a degree and see if four years in the real world would change his mind.
He came out of college with a business degree as well as a renewed hunger to join the Sons. His parents were not happy. But they also loved their son, and he quite obviously loved them.