Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Easy fucking peasy.
When she picked the vest up off the bed, the back patches caught her eye. She turned it around to get a better look and groaned.
The top rocker was embroidered with “Property of.” The bottom one read “Ghost.” The large center patch belonged to the Dirty Angels.
Ghost.
She glanced at the other cut and read his name patch. She turned her eyes to Fletch. “Really? Ghost?”
“Badass, right?”
She reluctantly agreed that it was a cool road name, unlike what he gave her. “Much better than Kitten.”
“Could’ve given you the road name of Rider instead.” He added an annoying grin onto that.
Rider?
Jesus. Ghost Rider. “In your dreams.”
He chuckled and when he did, she stared at the week’s growth of facial hair covering his lower face. Typically, he wasn’t allowed to wear any in his organization unless he had a good reason, like being undercover. However, right now he wasn’t working as a state trooper. At the moment, he was a federal task force officer and those rules no longer applied.
She studied him, remembering how smooth his face had been during that first meeting at The Plant. She was undecided if he looked better with the beard or without. She mentally shook herself when his grin widened and he drew his hand down his jawline.
“Like it?”
“At least it doesn’t look like a moth ate it.”
“Got enough fuckin’ testosterone flowin’ through my body to grow an impressive fuckin’ beard. Just you fuckin’ wait and see.”
“Too much testosterone will shrink your balls and give you limp dick,” she warned.
“Then, I got the perfect fuckin’ amount,” he announced, looking proud of himself. “Try it on.”
Try on his beard? Was he suggesting she sit on his face?
He tipped his head down toward the black leather vest crushed within her fingers.
For fuck’s sake, Nova, get your mind out of the damn gutter.
She loosened her grip and shrugged the cut over her shoulders.
As soon as she did, he slowly circled her, only pausing behind her long enough to say, “My name looks damn good on you.”
“It’s not your name.”
“Sure fuckin’ is. For however long we’re on this assignment.”
She brushed a finger over her name patch. “Just a warning, my claws are much sharper than a kitten’s.” She added, “So are my teeth.”
He stopped in front of her, not leaving enough space between him. But she didn’t move back. Instead, she stood her ground.
“I look forward to that.”
The rumble of his deep voice sliced through her. She cleared her tight throat and warned, “It might not be a pleasurable experience.”
He shrugged. “It might be worth risking it.”
“I promise you, it won’t.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured.
“Yes, we will.”
“Yeah.”
She raised her eyes to his. “What?”
“Use ‘yeah,’ not ‘yes.’ Tonight will be a good night to start gettin’ sloppy with your speech. Also, start usin’ more slang. Make sure to color your conversation with curses.”
“The last part will be easy.”
“You probably had to speak proper English when you were around the Russos.”
She ground her molars. “I can’t talk about that case.” And the fact was, she didn’t want to.
“The man’s dead.” He stated a fact she only knew too well.
“Frank Sr. is dead,” she clarified. “Too many other Russos still breathe.”
He frowned and his brown eyes suddenly held concern. “We need to worry ‘bout them huntin’ you the fuck down?”
She lifted one eyebrow. “And why would they want to do that?”
As he stared at her, her heart thumped in her ears. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Six heartbeats. Finally, he nodded. “Got it.”
“Good. Let’s just concentrate on our current job. Not one that had nothing to do with you.”
“Just don’t wanna be focused on the Demons in front of us when the fuckin’ Russos could be comin’ at us from the rear.”
She understood his concern, and for the most part, it could be valid, but… “They think it was a hit and that’s all I’ll say about it.” That part was leaked to the news. On purpose. Hints of who ordered the hit were planted to throw off the Russos. It had worked as planned.
But that also didn’t mean they might not eventually find out the truth.
“A hit that won’t come back to you.”
He wanted an assurance she couldn’t give. “Let’s move on.”
His hand snaked out and he grabbed her chin, lifting her face and locking his gaze with hers. “You’ll let me know if you get word they’re lookin’ for you, yeah? Need to know if you end up in their sights since we’ll be workin’ closely together here.”
She jerked her chin from his grip and took a step back. “If I’m warned about any type of suspicious activity relating to my UC work in that family and it could endanger you, I’ll let you know.”
She worded it that way for a reason but he wasn’t dumb. He obviously saw through it.
“I’ll hold you to that. Don’t fuck me, Nova.”