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)
As soon as Nova turned and went back to the game, the Twisted Steel member left the pool table area and headed in his direction.
For fuck’s sake. What shit did she stir up?
Fletch forced himself to appear relaxed and unbothered while he took a few puffs on his cigar, but the heavyset man lumbering toward him was blocking his view of Nova.
He reminded himself for the umpteenth time tonight that the FBI agent could handle herself.
The stringy-haired man with solid tats, not only up both arms, but also completely covering his neck, halted in front of him. The name on his patch said Wire. “Don’t keep your woman on a leash? She got a smart fuckin’ mouth.”
Fletch took his time raising his eyes to meet his and just as slowly said, “You that fuckin’ blind you don’t see the collar she’s wearin’ ‘round her neck?”
Tonight she had worn the black choker chain with the large O-ring like she had last Sunday during the DAMC run and pig roast.
The man with the long, shaggy beard glanced back over his shoulder. Fletch presumed at Nova. “Yeah. Saw it.”
“My leash snaps onto that. But she’s been a good girl lately, so tonight she’s got her freedom as a reward. She steps outta fuckin’ line, she’ll pay later.”
The man lifted one bushy eyebrow as he considered Fletch’s warning before a yellow-toothed grin slid across his face. “Like your thinkin’. She don’t fight that?”
Fletch gave him an answering smile, while silently thanking his parents for teaching him good dental hygiene. “Fuck yeah, she fights it. Makes doling out her punishment all the sweeter. Anyway, what fuck ain’t better without some fight to go along with it? That ain’t no fun.”
“Fuck yeah,” the man murmured with his eyes glued to the subject of their conversation. “Looks like she can get really fuckin’ feisty.” He turned back to Fletch, his eyes even darker now. “Wanna sell her?”
The fine hairs on the back of Fletch’s neck instantly stood at attention and it took everything he had to remain in Ghost’s persona. “You can’t afford her.”
“Try me.”
He sucked on his teeth in annoyance. “Look… She ain’t for sale, brother. Spent too much time trainin’ her.”
“Train a new one. Will make it worth your while.”
“Don’t got another one to train right now. I sell her to you, then what am I supposed to fuck tonight? My fist?” He scraped a hand down his beard and shook his head.
“How ‘bout rentin’ her to me, then. Just for an hour. She like it rough?”
“Loves it rough. Blood. Bruises. Loves for me to squeeze her fucking neck ’til she blacks out. She eats that shit up and begs for seconds. But she ain’t for rent, either, brother. Let one of my club brothers borrow her one night and she was returned to me broken. Took me a while to fix her. Wasn’t easy and ain’t goin’ through that shit again. The only acceptable damage on my woman will come from me. Got it?”
The hungry look in the man’s eyes was becoming a bit fucking scary. “Yeah, brother, got it. Damn.” He reached down and squeezed his crotch. “You ever need extra scratch, willin’ to pay good for some of that. Most bitches cry when you show ‘em who’s boss and she don’t look like she’d shed a tear no matter what’s done to her.”
Fletch forced down the bile rising up his throat. “Know how it is, my man, went through a few of ‘em ’til I found Kitten. When you find the right one, you gotta fuckin’ hold on to ‘em. That’s why she’s wearin’ my name on her back. Also got it branded on her ass. This way she don’t get lost, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
“Lucky fucker.”
“That I am. So, you can look, you can fantasize while you jack off… But you can’t fuckin’ touch. I own that fuckin’ ass, that mouth and that tight cunt.”
Wire scratched the back of his tattooed neck. “Can respect that.”
Fletch sure as fuck hoped so.
“Keep me in mind if you ever get bored of her or you take her past her breakin’ point and need to find a fresh challenge.”
Jesus H. Christ. He swallowed down Fletch’s response and responded as Ghost would. “You a regular here?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, know where to find you. You mind a little damaged goods?”
“Fuck no. Not if I get a motherfuckin’ discount and she still got some fight left in her.”
Fletch gave him a nod. “Then, I’ll keep you in mind.”
Wire answered with his own nod and yanked on his long, thick beard that looked like it hadn’t been maintained in decades.
When he reached down, Fletch stared at his extended hand for a second before slapping his palm in it. They clasped hands and shared a chin lift before the biker lumbered away.