Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 253(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Wrapping his arms around my waist, he flattens me against him, the heat of his breath dispersing over my lips. “You’ve always been mine.” There’s ownership in his words. A warning. He knows I haven’t been with anyone but him. It would be a death sentence to any poor soul I took to my bed.
Yet, the claw marks on his shoulder prove it’s a one-way rule. My eyes flick to my short nails, painted with a clear polish and black tips. No, it wasn’t me who made those marks. No doubt it was Jenna, a.k.a. Barbie, his favorite club slut with her ridiculous fake nails that look more like talons, if talons were painted bright pink with sparkly jewels glued on them. I think I just threw up in my mouth.
“What are you thinking about?” He frowns, strong fingers tugging a strand of my auburn hair.
“You, tomorrow, and finding Harley,” I lie with a shrug.
“Fine.” He exhales, exasperated, before releasing me once more. “Go see Bear. If anyone knows if she’s been here, it’s him.”
I slip my hands into the pockets of my jean shorts and give him my best sweet-girl smile. I pissed him off by not submitting to his requests, but I’m an ol’ lady, not a club slut—I will not be sucking his dick and stroking his ego just because he’s horny.
“Which Bear will I be getting today?” I ask.
Bear is the club’s sergeant at arms. His road name comes from the contradiction of his personality. On any given day, he’s either a mother bear, taking care of us all, or a bear with a sore head, tearing everyone a new one.
Tyler pushes a hand through his hair, swipes up a half-empty bottle of Jack, and takes a deep swig. “You have him wrapped around your finger. You always get mama bear.” He scoffs. I’m almost at the door when he calls out. “Come back, though, yeah? I need to feel you tonight.” He throws himself onto the bed and grabs his crotch to rearrange his junk before tipping back the bourbon.
I don’t know why everyone gets drunk the night before their wedding. Hangovers are an idiot’s game. Feeling like shit and puking is not how I want to spend my wedding day. I hope he keeps drinking. It gives him a limp dick. He won’t be able to feel it later, let alone use it.
“Can’t wait,” I mutter under my breath, righting my clothing and slipping out of his room.
It’s rowdy at the clubhouse tonight, with the energy amplified. It’s been a while since we’ve had a wedding. Mine has been on the table for some time, but I made Tyler wait until I finished my veterinarian degree. I didn’t want to end up knocked up and drop out. He talks about getting me pregnant as soon as we’re married. Being a mom isn’t something I’ve really thought about, but I’ve wanted to be a vet since I was a kid and a monster figured it would be funny to strap a firework to my cat’s tail and set it off. His family didn’t find it funny when my daddy burned down their house.
The familiar twinge tightens my chest at the thought of my dad. Thirteen years since his death, and I’m still raw. Everyone tells you that time heals wounds, but it’s a lie. Time only slows the bleeding.
Mom tried her best to pick up the pieces after his death, but she was useless even before he died. She was a teen mom when she had me still trying to raise herself. That’s why Harley and I are so close. I practically brought her up.
I rap my knuckles on Bear’s door, surprised to hear his deep, aggressive voice call out, “Better be fucking good.”
I hide my grin. His mood will shift when he sees it’s me. I push the door open, and the smell of bike grease and sweat hits me in the face as I cross the threshold. Bear’s mammoth figure dwarfs the desk he’s curled over. Whatever is on his screen has him transfixed.
“Isn’t porn beneath you?” I jest, sitting my ass on the edge of his bed.
His head whips up, the chair beneath him straining from the sudden movement. “Rogue,” he beams. The lines on his forehead iron out. A flood of warmth expands in my chest. His pet name for me is the same one my daddy used. Dad used to say that I was nothing like my namesake. I was more like him, a rule breaker.
“No one is above watching porn. You know you’re in a clubhouse, right?” Bear mocks, frowning.
“Yes, do you?” I raise a brow. Every other brother is out in the main room getting drunk. The place is full of women desperate for the chance to spend the night with a Devil, and here he is, in his room, leaning over his computer like a teenage boy.