Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
All I know is that he’s still lost to me when he buries his face in the crook of my neck, and muffles his own sound. He stills inside me, and his head comes up, lips colliding with mine as he kisses me differently, his arms holding me tightly in a possessive, yet almost reverent manner.
It’s doing a lot of things to my head that I like too much to be healthy and rational.
It feels too much like I’m enjoying being Kara Caine again. Simply because Kara Caine got to have the fucked-up boy she loved so damn much.
Chapter 24
RUSH
Kara melts like warm putty against me after I finish dressing her and start massaging her sore wrists.
My lips twist in a private grin when she struggles to stand up on unsteady legs. She even elects to sit down for a minute, which I find amusing.
My eyes stay on her as I finish pulling all my clothes back on, and she darts a look at me from moment to moment, like she’s waiting for me to look away so she can study me in private.
“I can’t tell if I should take you seriously or think you’re insane,” she mumbles at last, clearing her throat as she fans herself with her shirt. “And this box gets really hot. You should mention better ventilation to Snake if he’s so hell-bent on being complicated-kinky.”
I’m not sure why her cheeks are so flushed. It’s not all that hot in here.
The booth stops, and the door automatically opens.
“Is there a picture to purchase at the end of the ride?” she asks dryly, causing my lips to twitch.
“Stop smirking at me like that. You’re creeping me out a little with all your silent smirking.”
I shrug a careless shoulder and walk out, pulling on my cut as I go.
Running a hand through my disheveled hair to smooth it out, I dart a look up to the mirror as the strobe lights start pumping through the club.
Kara hurries closer to me when three men grab a screaming woman, pinning her down.
“Are they—”
“She’s wearing a blue collar. That means anything goes,” I tell her as she moves directly next to my side.
“I’m not wearing any sort of collar. What message does that send?” she asks over the music.
“It tells everyone I’ll shoot a motherfucker if they touch you,” I announce, distracted by the silhouette darkening the exit.
How the hell did this crazy bitch know where to find me? Does she track phones too? Fucking mafia chicks.
Sarah nods at me and turns to walk out, and I glance back and curse. Kara is crouched and angling her head, watching the trio of men enjoy the role-playing redhead.
“Coming?” I ask very loudly.
“No, but I think she is,” Kara answers with a furrowed brow and a widening part in her lips. “Oh wow. That’s a real thing! Did you see what they just made her do?”
Un-fucking-believable. It’s supposed to be a heady dose of seduction in this place. I had to work extremely damn hard to even get her to take it seriously. Now she’s back to simple intrigue and curious fascination.
Shoving through the door, deciding I need to up my game for the next round of getting her back to where we once were, but better, I glance over to see the villainous blonde with too many guns hanging off her person in plain sight.
“Robbed a bank on the way?” I guess.
“Nah, I have a guy who can hack accounts and shit if I need money. Bank robbing is too messy,” she states casually, popping the chamber of the gun she’s holding. “Herrin’s planning something big, but no one is sure what. He’s playing this really close to the vest, since you got his right-hand man and broke him like a cheap table.”
“Actually, Axle’s the one who did that. I just helped things along, because I apparently scare people,” I tell her as I prop up on the side of the building.
“I can relate,” she states idly, picking at a chipped nail. “Kara Caine happen to like my ex’s new playhouse?” she asks, annoyance in her tone.
“Are you mad he built a sex shop for voyeurism and exhibitionism alike? Or do you occasionally poke your head in to ensure he’s not physically partaking in such festivities?” I quip, shooting her a knowing look.
“Bitches know I’m crazy. The only girl who will touch him will be too dumb, easy, and shallow for him to even bother with,” she says a little snidely as she puffs out her chest.
“Yeah…because you’re so deep and thoughtful. That’s why you were a stripper—”
“Talk bad about those hardworking women because of their profession, and I’ll make three incisions of varying size, width, and depth on your dick,” she deadpans.
It’s the weirdest, most sincerely direct threat ever.
“Why did you stalk me? I thought we were meeting later,” I state in quick deflection.