Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 96(@200wpm)___ 76(@250wpm)___ 64(@300wpm)
Yet all too soon, she straightened up, her skirt falling back down into place, but she couldn’t find her panties. That was because they were tucked in my pocket, so I could smell them while I jerked off later. They were useless to her anyway, since I’d torn them off of her.
Kelsie slowly turned to face me, her eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place.
“This changes nothing,” she said, her voice soft, but there was an underlying tone that told me even she didn’t believe what she said.
I didn’t say a thing, just grinned, pulled her into me again, and said, “You and I both know that’s bullshit. You’re mine, sweet girl. And ain’t nothing gonna change that.”
5
KELSIE
The grocery bags in my hands were heavy as I carried them toward the truck I’d borrowed from the clubhouse.
It was late, too late for me to comfortably be out running errands, but I’d been too busy the rest of the day. There was shit I needed to stock up on, and now was the only free time I’d had.
Or maybe it was the fact that Knox had found me just before I’d been about to leave and fucked me until my knees were weak and I could barely walk straight.
I’d been too busy, indeed.
I smiled as that image slammed into my head, and heat coursed through my body.
The parking lot behind Ginny’s Deli and Market was nearly deserted, and the single flickering streetlamp did a poor job of illuminating the wide area.
I was loading the bags in the back seat when I heard the low rumble of motorcycles, which became louder the closer they came.
I stood back and shut the back door , watching as three Harleys pulled into the parking lot. At first, I just assumed the bikers were Reapers. This was their territory, after all.
But it wasn’t the Reapers. I spotted the logo on the back of their cuts—a skull with black-and-white flames spewing from its gaping mouth and drops of blood coming out of the eye sockets.
The Black Death MC. A rival club from one town over.
An uneasy shiver ran down my spine when they parked just a few spots from me. The way they stared at me should have been my cue to get the fuck out of there.
And that’s exactly what I started to do as I placed my keys between each of my fingers, the metal creating a kind of sharp brass knuckles, while I walked around the bed of the truck.
Footsteps echoed behind me. Slow. Predatory. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I reached the driver side door.
“Look at this, boys,” a deep voice drawled. “Pretty little thing, out here all alone.”
I pulled the truck door open, but a large hand slammed down on the frame, closing it with a loud clang.
“Driving around in Reaper property, doing Reaper bitch work. That must make you one of their whores.”
With my other hand I reached into my bag for the can of pepper spray I kept in there, trading out my makeshift brass knuckles, and regretted not having a different type of weapon. A knife. Maybe even a gun. It would have come in real handy right about now. Because keys between my knuckles felt really insignificant in this moment. He was too big, too large of a man, for them to do anything but piss him off and make him meaner.
With the little can of pepper spray in my hand, I faced the rival biker, not showing him weakness or fear. Instinct screamed at me to run, but I was already trapped. There were three of them, the Black Death patches on their leather cuts shadowed under the dim streetlight. And these men… their eyes gleamed with something cruel and unyielding.
“Reaper’s Scythe property, ain’t she?” one of them mused, taking a lazy step closer but still staying behind the head man who stood in front of me.
His road name patch read Taker. He was their leader; that was obvious. He wasn’t the president of the club, according to his cut, but he was clearly calling the shots for the other two.
Taker, the man directly before me—a wide-shouldered asshole with an ugly scar running the length of his temple down to his chin—smirked. “Yeah. I can smell their stench on you. Bet you suck all their dicks and let them come all over your face like a good slut.”
My stomach twisted. I knew of the rival clubs in the surrounding towns, since I grew up here and hung around the MC. That’s why I cursed myself for not being smarter and waiting until tomorrow morning to do my errands.
Would that really have mattered? These fuckers were clearly planning this, so they would have cornered me no matter what time it had been.