Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
With a shudder, he dropped his weight onto her, burying his face in her neck. He whispered something against her throat, but she couldn’t make out whatever it was.
He stayed like that for longer than expected, but she wasn’t in a rush to move, either, since she found his weight comforting for some reason.
She trailed her fingers lightly up and down his back as he slowly combed his fingers through her hair. Both of them waiting for their rapid breathing to slow and their pulse to stop racing. For the haze to clear.
With his face still planted against her throat, he said, “I’ll never look at strawberries the same again.”
She smiled up at the ceiling. Neither would she. “Good. I hope you think of this moment every time you eat them.”
He lifted his head and shifted until he could look her in the eyes. “Then, I hope like hell my mother never serves strawberry shortcake when I’m over there for dinner.”
“That could get a bit awkward,” she agreed.
When he chuckled, his still hard cock moved inside her. “My mother makes the best Torta de Piña. Tonight taught me one thing... I’ll never use pineapple for foreplay. I prefer not to think about sex while sitting across the table from her and eating her food.”
“Good call.”
“Am I crushing you?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
“I need to move soon.”
Unfortunately.
“But that doesn’t mean we can’t do this again in a little while,” he added.
“Isn’t that why you told me to bring an overnight bag?”
A look flashed across his face before he could hide it.
Her eyebrows pinned together. “Wasn’t it?”
“Absolutely.” With a deep sigh, he secured the full condom before slipping from her and rolled from the bed with a groan. After removing it, he glanced back at her sprawled in the center of the bed and offered his hand. “Time to hit the shower.”
She glanced at the mess they made. He was smart to put down the towels. “I agree.”
He tipped his dark head toward the ensuite bathroom. “My shower’s big enough for two.”
She rolled up to a seat and slapped her hand in his. “We’d make do even if it wasn’t.”
He intertwined their fingers and used their connected hands to help her to her feet. “That’s the spirit.”
Chapter Twelve
Once again, he had to leave his weapon behind in his borrowed vehicle and that made his skin crawl as he dropped his keys and cell phone into the basket and stepped through the metal detector at The Peach Pit.
Or “The Pit” as Sapphire now called it. The second name fit the club’s current state better.
He had a small wad of federal cash tucked in his front pocket and once again had his ceramic knife strapped to his calf. He gave a chin lift to the prospect named Chubs working the door, then handed over a wrinkled five spot for the cover charge.
He was here tonight for two reasons. One for his task force job. And the other?
The dark-haired beauty working tonight.
The one who had wormed her way into his chest and burrowed into his brain.
She not only spent the night at his place Friday but she came back over Monday night since that was the only night the club was closed. She brought along an overnight bag and a bag of take-out from Bangin’ Burgers, one of his favorite burger joints.
He couldn’t get enough of the woman, whether naked or clothed. She was smart, funny and could tolerate the asinine shit that sometimes escaped his mouth before he could stop it in its tracks.
She told him it was endearing. However, he knew most would disagree. Except for his BAMC brothers since they were all professional players in the sport of ball-busting. Between everyone in their MC, nothing coming out of their mouths was considered offensive or surprising. In fact, it was expected.
He had no idea if Sapphire was taking the stage tonight or working the floor. Either way, it was an easy opportunity to keep an eye on her while doing his job.
For her safety, of course. He sure as fuck didn’t trust those Deadly Demons.
When he stepped through the lobby door into the main club area, the loud music hit him like a sledgehammer. The bass was turned so damn high, it was distorting Bruno Mars’ Gorilla.
That should be a damn crime. So was what was happening on the stage.
One of the newer dancers stood next to the pole, taking her time to peel off the layers she wore. Beyond the act of removing her outfit piece by piece, she wasn’t even moving. She wasn’t dancing. Not even swinging her hips.
Rez’s gaze swept the floor, not looking for Sapphire, but to see how the “audience” was reacting to this pathetic performance.
Not well.
It wasn’t even worth a five cent cover charge, forget five bucks.
During his visual scan of the interior of The Pit, he didn’t spot the woman who left his bed earlier today to go home and get ready for work. Instead, he noticed Cherish and Porsche working the handful of men on the floor and everyone was focused on them instead of the stage. Rez didn’t blame them.