Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
We'd each snatched little bursts of sleep between stake-outs and meet-ups with other local crews who we thought may have—but ultimately didn't—any useful information to send our way.
We'd ultimately decided to go back to the clubhouse, despite concerns with easily being found there.
We'd been able to relocate our women.
Remy's many, various animals were another story.
So in between trips out, hitting the street, looking for clues, we were back home, letting out dogs, feeding cats and tortoises and birds.
"Someone needs to come up with a better plan than 'Blow the whole place up' soon, or I am just going to hit the go button on that shit," Huck said, pacing, the frustration bouncing off every fried nerve ending.
The problem was, there were too many of them. We'd been hopeful that the big meeting had been just that—a meeting. We figured everyone would head home, leaving us to deal with the Chechens alone after the failure of trying to assassinate me. We could always track down the Ukrainians later, take them out for what they'd tried to do.
One thing at a time.
But whatever was going on, it seemed to involve both organizations. And it seemed that, for once, they had leadership that stayed tight-lipped about their plans. As far as we could tell, none of the organizations knew what they were up to. No one seemed overly concerned, either.
It made sense.
We were the only ones handling the arms trade in the area. No one else had any sort of vested interest in keeping an eye on the Chechens and Ukrainians, since they didn't pose a threat to their own organizations.
Just ours.
"The fact that none of us know much about bombs might put a kink in those plans," McCoy—our ever-present voice of reason—reminded Huck.
"Half of the shit under the sink says it's flammable. How hard could it be to blow something up? They're not leaving," he added, sighing as he raked an impatient hand through his hair. "If they would just split up, we could pick them off one by one. We'd have a better chance of getting out of this relatively unscathed. But trying to go in there? Just the five of us against fifteen or twenty of them? I don't like those odds."
None of us did.
But we couldn't keep putting off action forever, either.
Life would have to go back to some sort of order eventually. The girls couldn't stay with Teddy for the rest of their lives. No matter how comfortably we all knew he was setting them up.
I didn't have to worry about Saskia.
She was being well taken care of. Objectively, Teddy could take care of her leaps and bounds better than I could. She also had the girls around. But she didn't know them. She didn't feel comfortable with them. Hell, she barely felt comfortable with me, and that was because of how close we'd once needed to be.
I knew she put on a good mask, but that underneath all that, she was dealing with some shit. I couldn't imagine how terrified she must have been after the crash, when I was useless to her, and she was left to fend for herself in a way she'd never had to before, not only saving herself but me as well.
Then, before she'd even been able to process what was going on, she'd been shuffled off, stuck in a strange place with people who she was just beginning to know.
She had to have been spiraling. Even if she wasn't showing any outward signs of it. I wanted to get back to her, to help her unpack it all, to thank her again for saving my life, to reassure her that I was there for her.
And, yes, get back to what we'd started in that bed.
What little rest I'd managed to get had been riddled with dreams of running my lips and tongue over her breasts, blazing a path downward, burying my face between her thighs. I'd been tortured with the sounds of her in my head as her hands sifted into my hair, as her thighs closed around the sides of my head, as her hips writhed against me while I licked her clit.
Judging by the ever-present ache in my side that no over-the-counter meds could touch, it was going to be a while before I could have her the way I wanted. Completely. Her body beneath me, her hips hooked around my lower back, her fingers raking down my back, her cries in my ear, her walls spasming around me, pulling me along with her into an orgasm.
But we would get there eventually.
I had to remind myself that we weren't losing time.
Even after we handled our mess, there was still hers to work with. Which meant we had time to figure things out between us.
Already, I could tell where I was leaning. I wanted to give it a shot. A real shot.