Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
It’s like I’m fucking hooked on the taste of her.
I push her up against the wall, determined to leave here with my common sense back intact. I pin her arms above her head and cage her in my arms.
She looks at me with dark, hooded eyes. “What do you want from me?”
I bury my face in her throat and growl out the word, “Everything.”
Lifting her in my arms, she’s as light as a feather. One arm holds her in place as I take my aching cock and rub it through her soaked pussy.
My breath leaves me in a ragged rasp. “Fuck.”
Despite my desperation to be inside her, I enter her slowly, ensuring she feels every hard inch sliding into her. But it’s me who feels it most. Even though she cries out and arches her back, it’s me who feels every sensation of light and pleasure as I sink in all the way to the hilt.
I let out a low moan and close my eyes, dropping my forehead to hers.
Her nails dig into my shoulder, and the shooting pain sets me off.
“Ares,” she pants my name, her voice laced in pleasure, but I greedily kiss it from her lips. Plunging my tongue in, I take her breath as I give in and let the animal in me take over.
“Oh God, yes,” she cries.
I thrust my free hand through her hair and grind harder into her. She arches her neck, and the sight of her pale throat does me in.
“Goddammit!” I growl as I’m rocked by a blinding light and mind-blowing pleasure that makes my knees go weak.
I drive harder into her as we both groan out our orgasms.
“Feel better,” she pants as we come down.
Fuck.
It’s like she can read my mind.
Like she knew why I came here tonight.
I press my forehead to hers. “I needed that.”
Not that anything has changed.
I’m still hard.
“Something tells me you’re not done yet,” she whispers.
My cock twitches inside her. “You have good intuition.”
Her kiss is deep and slow and sends a new wave of need through me.
Clearly, tonight’s mission is still not accomplished.
If it ever existed in the first place.
RORY
Ares kisses me awake at first light.
Outside, the sun hasn’t even begun to breach the horizon, but I know he has MC business he needs to attend to. He doesn’t say much about the Kings of Mayhem and what he does for them, but I know there’s something going on today.
“Will I see you later?” I ask sleepily as he hovers over me.
He buries his face into my neck. “I’ll call you.”
When I hear the front door close behind him, I slip into a deep, uncomfortable sleep where my nightmares reign and my past haunts me. Splintered images of people long gone mix with bad feelings and unhappy memories until my skin breaks out in a sweat.
The buzz of my cell on the bedside table wakes me. But despite the nightmares, I’m not ready to wake up. It’s still dark out, and after a night with Ares in my bed, my body needs the extra rest. But I’m not someone who can leave a message unopened. It’ll scratch at the back of my mind until I look at it.
Blindly, I reach for it, wondering if it’s Ares.
But it isn’t.
Reading the message, my stomach drops, and a rush of nausea chases away any lingering thoughts of sleep.
In the shadows of my bedroom, I sit up and push my hair out of my face. Goosebumps pebble my skin as I stare at the words on the screen.
Unknown: Tick tock, Aurora. Your time is running out.
A fresh zip of nausea tears through me, and I throw the cell phone onto my bed and stare at it like it just bit me.
An image of Donnie swings before my eyes, and I feel the haunting sensation of his fingers trailing along my skin and the stench of whisky and sweat in the air as he took and took and took from me. Then I think about my brother and the coffin, and a ghostly shiver travels down my spine. They’re fractured memories tainted by time and pain but still as real as if they happened only yesterday.
Tick tock, Aurora. Your time is running out.
Reaching over to the bedside table, I open the drawer and pull out the Ruger lying beside a bottle of Advil and a tray of contraceptive pills. The gun is loaded, and I know how to use it.
The question is, when will I?
ARES
“I’m not going to lie to you, boys. This is some of the craziest shit I’ve seen in twenty years of being in law enforcement.”
Sheriff Pinkwater slides a stack of crime scene photographs across the table we use during Church. It’s a long, rustic table made of red oak taken from one of the local forests. Usually, twenty-one patched members of the club sit around it. Today, there is only Jack, Paw, and Shooter, who is the club’s VP and Jack’s right hand, and me.