Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Even Cage’s longish, disheveled hair fit him perfectly. During one of the sisterhood’s “Wine and Whine” get-togethers, Jemma drunkenly confessed one night it was the perfect length to grab ahold of and manipulate his head for certain activities.
That confession made Reilly drink even more wine, since she was feeling sorry for herself for having no one to partake in those “certain activities.”
Also, unlike the rest of the guys, Rev had several barbell piercings in both ears and a hoop in his left nostril. The only other Fury member who had piercings like that was her sister’s ol’ man, Deacon.
She dropped her gaze to Rev’s chest when she realized she’d seen his cock plenty of times, even his naked ass cheeks—which, if anyone asked her, were a solid fifteen on a scale of one to ten—as he had sex with sweet butts back at the farm, but she’d never seen him without his shirt on.
Huh.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask whether his nipples were pierced. But that would be a weird question to ask while they were discussing whether he would go home to visit his dying father.
She tucked it away for the future. Deacon had his nipples pierced and Reilly had all kinds of questions that neither Reese or Deke would answer. However, she’d caught her sister touching them over top of Deke’s shirts when she didn’t think anyone was watching.
She took that to mean Reese liked them and Deacon really liked them.
Rev wrapping an arm around her hips and his hand squeezing her waist fished her mind back out of the gutter, where it tended to do the backstroke for laps at a time. Probably because she was so damned sex starved right now. She could ride a freaking lamp post and think it was the best sex ever.
“Know you don’t talk about it and don’t expect you to. But… Know how you wanted to ensure that motherfucker was dead?”
That motherfucker?
Ah, shit. Her fingers stilled in his hair. He not only fished her out of the gutter, she was now flopping around fighting for breath on the sidewalk.
“Kinda want the same thing. Ain’t upset he’s dyin’. Hope to fuck he’s sufferin’. And truth is? I want to be there to witness it.”
“Rev.”
“You don’t even know, Reilly. Ain’t even gonna go there. But trust me, if you knew, you’d see why I’m sayin’ what I’m sayin’.”
Shit.
She had hated her parents—both of them—for abandoning her and Reese. Her mother might have lived in the same house, but she was never present. She wasn’t a mother. She was only a living, breathing object they had to step around when she was passed out drunk.
But she never once wished her parents dead.
The only person she did was Billy Warren. And not until he’d almost killed her.
Twice.
Okay, maybe she wanted some of the Shirleys dead for all the shit they’d pulled with the club. But right now, she wasn’t going there. And right now, things were quiet for them. For good reason.
More importantly, right now, she was trying to understand a hatred for a parent that ran so deep that made someone want to visit that parent just to watch him suffer before he took his last breath. “I don’t think that’s healthy.”
“Might not be healthy but thinkin’ it’s needed. Some kinda goddamn closure.”
“So, you’re going to go.”
He tipped his head up to her. “Yeah. Gonna go. You helped me decide.”
Oh sure, lay a guilt trip on me. Thanks for that free ride, Rev.
“You shouldn’t go alone, Rev. Especially for the reason you’re going.”
“Saylor ain’t gonna go.”
“Not Saylor. Take someone else.”
“Ain’t takin’ anyone else. This ain’t a trip for me and my bestie. That’s women shit. Just gonna go down, see it done, and get the fuck outta there.”
See it done.
Like help it along? Shove his father to the end a little quicker?
“When are you going to go? You’ll have to give Dutch that news. You know he won’t be happy about you just up and leaving like that.”
“Gonna have to get over it. Just gonna pretend that I give a fuck about my sperm donor instead of hatin’ his fuckin’ guts, then Dutch can’t say shit. What boss won’t let an employee go see his dear dyin’ dad?”
None. Even Dutch.
“When?” she asked again. She needed to know because a plan was already brewing in her head. All she had to do was smooth out some of the rough details.
One of them being Dutch, who took that moment to fling the back door open and bellow, “What the fuck! Think I’m payin’ you two to sit out here and watch the fuckin’ weeds grow? Get the fuck back inside, or you’re fired.”
Reilly bit her bottom lip in an attempt to hide her grin. “Told you.”
“Didn’t need to tell me how grumpy that asshole is.” Rev didn’t hide his grin.