Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 144840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I focus on Micah. “Going to what?”
“You know, pull her out.” He gestures toward her. “But back home, when Franky grabbed her by the arm, you fed him his own ass. Thought maybe she wasn’t to be touched.”
My fingers flex with a sudden need to agree, because fuck me...
The thought of hands on her makes me see red.
That’s a fucking problem.
And unexpected.
And not part of the plan.
I didn’t bring her here for me.
Didn’t bring her here for anyone else to have either.
I shake my head, shoving him away.
He stumbles, waiting for me to face Brielle before he walks over to stand beside Andre.
Brielle rubs her lips together. “You don’t always have to put your hands on people.”
“You don’t always have to make me.”
She flicks her lashes toward the sky, shaking her head.
“Why are you here?”
“I work for you.”
“I didn’t call for you.”
Her eyes narrow. “Maybe I’m an overachiever.”
“Nah, you’re feeling bad for yourself ‘cause you got ditched yesterday.”
“That’s good. Keep thinking that.” She tips her head like a brat. “That means my poker face is getting better.”
“I saw your poker face at the warehouses. It sucks.”
“It was good enough to get Enoch Cameron to spill his little heart out to me and admit he had a cheating girlfriend.” She pops a brow. “Or should I say ex-girlfriend.”
My frown is instant, and I dart forward. “Wait, what?”
I look to my brothers, both standing casually near the hood of the SUV, focused on us.
“Oh, my bad,” she sasses. “You thought I ended up at the table, in the chair right beside the guy you and your family strategically invited that night, by accident?”
“How the fuck—”
“Did I know to pry?” she interrupts with a laugh, not bothering to get permission to share. “Your brother, you can ask which one. He told me to be friendly to a green bottle, but to keep my hands to myself. I know that means go hunting.”
“I know which one, and that was stupid. Dangerous.” My heart pounds heavy in my chest. “You should never hunt without protection.”
Protection.
I’ve never been touched at all.
Fuck.
“Oh, I had protection,” she teases, a knowing look in her eye. “See, there was this wolf who tracked me all that night, and from what I’ve gathered, his teeth are real sharp.”
My abs tighten beneath my shirt.
Yeah, I watched her. I constantly watch her.
I can’t fucking stop.
It’s irritating and why I had to leave yesterday after I fucked-up the day by bringing others into it. Because frustrated or not, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Brielle fights a smile. “Maybe I’m good at poker after all, huh, Playboy?”
My eyes slide between hers and that smile she tried to bury breaks free.
I lick my lips. “Maybe.”
“Only one way to find out,” she leads. “Use me, Royce Brayshaw.”
Heat spreads through my groin at a rate I could never fight off, but I don’t allow it to take over the task at hand.
I study her a long moment, glancing from her to Micah, to my family.
They leave it in my hands.
“Okay, little Bishop.” I reach up, pulling her hair free of the little tie and trailing the silver strands as they fall, teasing the skin of her neck and shoulders.
She straightens her spine, waiting.
“Go on in, pick your poison.”
She steps ahead, falling in line with Micah and Andre and I hold back, turning toward my family.
I glare at Victoria. “This what you meant when you said you’d save the explanation for later?”
She grins. “Yep.”
I look to Maddoc.
He shrugs. “She was there, made sense to use her.”
I scoff. “You come up with that just now based on her little speech?”
A grin pulls at his lips, but he says nothing.
We start walking in, and Raven falls in line beside me, props her forearm on my shoulder and says, “Speaking of using her...”
Her eyes fall to Brielle’s little red shorts, high up on her waist and nice and fuckin’ stretchy around the backside.
I laugh, spin, and whisper one word.
“Virgin.”
The grins on all their faces fall flat, a harmonized ‘oh shit’ following.
I turn around and make my way to the others, one thing playing in my mind.
Oh shit is right.
Virgins and me?
We don’t get along.
I’m not a good guy, I know this, and to fuck me now is to get what they’re after in the day’s since, but it doesn’t last. There is no ‘if things go sour or to shit’, it’s when, and guess what the first thing is they’ll want back but will never again have?
That flashing V-card.
Bad guy or not, a girl’s first time isn’t the one they should regret.
I can do nothing about the other times, I’m not a saint, but I can at least refuse to ruin the one memory they’re unable to erase
But this is perfect.
She’s here to piss off her brother, to get into some trouble and strip herself of the good everyone’s forced her into.