Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Then, to prove his point, he was grabbing me, flipping me onto my back, and surging back inside as he held my legs at his sides, his gaze oscillating from my face to where he was still fucking me, making need slowly start to build again.
“Look how fucking good you’re taking me,” he said, making my walls clench around him, which dragged that growling sound out of him again as he pressed my feet against his chest, freeing his hands. One moved out, pressing hard just above my pelvic bone, making me feel him even more intensely.
The strangled moan that escaped me at the sensation had fire flicking in his eyes as he started to fuck me faster, driving me up at a breakneck pace, making my hips rock against his thrusts.
“That’s it,” he said, voice tight as he got close. “Squeeze my cock,” he demanded. Then just like that, I did. “Fuck,” he groaned, slamming deep, and coming with me.
Brooks collapsed down on the bed next to me after, his hand rested on my thigh, both of us trying to catch our breaths and slow our hearts.
“You’re staying with me tonight,” Brooks said, voice slow, tired.
“Yes,” I agreed, scooting over to press a kiss to his collarbone before he pulled me up on his chest.
His arms came around me, holding me tight.
And, somehow, right then, I knew that I was never going to have to worry. I would never be alone again. Brooks was my family now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Brooks - 1 day
“How’d it go?” Fallon asked when I emerged from my room sometime around eight in the morning. Cali was still out cold. I’d stolen her phone earlier to call Sage and tell her that she wasn’t going to be in for a few days.
It was pure selfishness on my part.
She was safe to go home now.
I just wanted her at my side, uninterrupted, for a few days.
The night before had been… a lot. For both of us. We earned a little break from everything else.
“It… went,” I said, reaching for a mug, and pouring some coffee. “We weighed our options after talking to Jax. And it just… I didn’t want to take any risks of anyone coming back to fuck with Cali in the future.”
“They’re all gone?” he asked.
“Yeah. We caught them off-guard when we went in. Four guys were picked off before they could even get out of their chairs,” I told him, flashing back to us sneaking in through the back of the fish store, finding a group of six sitting around a table playing cards.
“It was Rune and Croft who drew first and shot first,” I told Fallon, since he wanted to know how they handled themselves in tense situations. “They were calm and cool. No expression. Just action. Shots were pretty fucking precise too.”
One head shot. One double-tap to the chest.
“Perish rushed through the door to the front, more intent on using his fists than the gun. Which might be something he needs to work on, depending on the situation.”
“Okay. Good to know. How many more were there?”
I was still stepping over the body I’d taken out when I heard shots popping off out front where Perish and Rune had disappeared.
Croft had nodded at me, and I’d moved out with him at my six. Just in time for me to pick off someone who was trying to sneak up on Perish as Rune wrestled with the other guy, his gun scattered across the floor in the shuffle.
Just a few feet to my side, Croft waited for an opening that, in my opinion, was a little too fucking small, and picked off the guy fighting with his brother.
Again, very calm and calculated. Like they’d done shit like this a thousand times before.
“Then… it was all over. Under ten minutes,” I told Fallon. “Then, fucking Perish…” I said, shaking my head.
“What’d he do?” Fallon asked, wincing. He was partial to the fucker, so he was clearly hoping it wasn’t bad enough to need to second-guess his involvement in the club.
I was just checking the pulse on one guy, making sure he was gone, when Perish called out my name.
When I turned, I found him moving toward me, someone’s wrist in his meaty hand, dragging the fucking corpse across the room behind him.
“Isn’t this that watch you were talking about?” he asked as the body came to rest right by my shoes.
Fallon snorted at that, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But it was Clay’s watch.”
“After that?”
“The usual. Clean-up,” I told him, thinking of how we’d carefully picked up our casings, found and destroyed the footage on the cameras, wiping down the wrist of the guy Perish had touched, in case of the potential for any sort of fingerprint or trace evidence. “And double so when we came home. Everything washed and bleached.”