Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
I remember. We had a run-in, and he broke my finger with an emergency window breaker. Good, innocent times. Back then, he seemed vicious, like a rabid dog finally allowed to run free. It’s enlightening to find out he joined the Butchers because he wanted safety in numbers.
“Didn’t expect that,” I tell him, opening the top button of my Henley, because the collar feels oppressive.
Clyde drinks more, stiffening his shoulders. “What did you expect? That I wanted to please Daddy? That all I ever dreamed of was to follow in my big brother’s footsteps, like in some fucking Disney movie?”
I shrug, surprised that he’s so defensive. “No. I just figured you wanted a piece of the pie, that’s all.” But it’s not all, and I sigh, meeting his gaze again. “It pissed me off that you had it easy, joining because you were the prez’s son.”
“While you… what? Had to make a human sacrifice for Prophet to let you join? Drink your witch’s blood?” he asks, but stands closer, curiosity in his eyes, not malice.
A chuckle tears from my throat, and I shake my head. “And meditate under an icy waterfall.” His eyes widen, and when I’m pretty certain he believes me, I poke him in the ribs. “I’m messing with you. No. I’m from… far away. After I ran away from home, I just roamed the country, hitchhiking, or catching rides on cargo trains. That ended when this guy who gave me a lift and I had a scuffle”—he beat me unconscious—“and he threw me out of his car, at the side of the road. That’s how Prophet found me. Just a stray. Roadkill,” I tell him and wink, because I’m not sure if he knows the root of my nickname.
Clyde’s hand hovers over mine for a moment, but then he pulls back when a new group of people entering makes the bell over the door chime. “And he just took you in?” He cocks his head, seeming to disbelieve Prophet’s good heart.
I shrug. “He only just started the club, they were all teens, playing grown-ups, but they were serious about it. Made me do all of the nastiest work, but I got food, and clothes, and a bed. It was fairer than anything I ever got before that. I was scared shitless of Brigid though until I realized she’s not actually a witch. Felt like finding out Santa’s not real all over again.” I chuckle at the memory.
Clyde punches my shoulder. “I’m… glad they found you. Even if you ended up in the shittier club.” His eyes spark with that mischief I like so much.
“You wish you were one of us! You get your fortune read at least once a month,” I tell him, because there’s no point arguing whose club is better. It’s the Vultures, of course, but that conversation would take us nowhere.
Clyde finishes his beer and puts away the bottle. “And what’s your future? You think you can win three rounds in a row?”
My gums itch. He’s so damn beautiful like this, with eyes focused only on me, open mouth, and hair still messy from the handstand. I want him.
“I always do when it matters.”
Clyde steps closer and leans in to speak straight into my ear. “Win three rounds, and you can top me tonight.”
He might as well have poured gasoline over me and set me on fire.
Chapter 25
Road
My head is so light, I feel as if I’m no longer occupying my body but standing next to it while Clyde’s fresh, masculine scent makes me drunk on his presence.
I’ve wanted this for a long time, of course I have, and I always carry the necessities on me, just in case, but the offer seems to come from nowhere, and I worry it’s a joke. I clear my throat and ask, “Are you serious?”
He won’t look into my eyes, but smiles. “Yeah.”
“And if I lose? Do… you top?” I ask, because it seems the logical conclusion, but I haven’t given that much thought before. It’s been suggested to me in the past, and I declined. I never fantasized about it either.
Clyde raises his eyebrows. “Do you want me to?”
“I mean… I’d take one for the team. It’s a game, so it’s only fair—”
He rolls his eyes. “Honestly? We both know I’m not a top.”
I have to bite back a smile, because yeah, while Clyde is eager to touch me and is a confident man overall, he always lets me lead in bed. Hearing him say it though? What a damn turn-on. “What will it be then?”
“How about your bike if you lose?”
I hiss and my mouth twists. My bike is my most precious and expensive possession, to the point that it feels like a part of me, but would I not risk it for a chance to slide into Clyde’s warm body and stuff him full of my cum? Of course I fucking would. Especially since I know he’s not really in it for the bike. He’s been nervous about taking the sex further from the start, and he’s making it into a game to make it seem less intimidating.