Conor Read Online A. Zavarelli (Boston Underworld #6)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Dark, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
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My cock comes back to life with a craving so violent, I haven’t a clue what to make of it. I feel Rory’s eyes on me, but I can’t look away from her. She’s rendered me useless under her spell, along with fifty other men in the room.

I release a breath when the intro finally ends, and the spotlight comes on. The crowd rumbles with excitement, and for a split second, Ivy halts, blinded and stunned. She’s cleaned up, just as I instructed, her blonde hair falling in silky waves to the delicate curve of her arse. She’s wearing a strappy black outfit she pulled out of the free for all bin, and her eyes are covered in glitter. She’s done exactly what I asked and pulled herself together, so I can’t figure out why I’m so bloody out of sorts over it.

Fecking Christ.

She’s a treat on a cold Boston evening and the crowd loves her. They shout out encouragement, and she starts dancing again. Her body is stiffer, the goddess behind the shadows a faint memory, at least until she closes her eyes and gets lost in the feeling.

There’s a part of me I can’t rationalize with that doesn’t want her to be good at this. I want Crow to say that she’s finished. She can do anything else except dance. It isn’t logical, and I can’t understand it. Especially when she’s everything I hate in a woman.

She’s so gangly, it leaves little doubt in my mind she’s a user. I’ve been down that road before, and it leaves a sour taste in my mouth even thinking about it. I can’t just sit here and watch her undress. I can’t watch her sell herself out for cash only to inject it in her arm.

I stand up and swipe my empty glass from the table, itching for another drink. If there’s one thing that’s certain, I don’t need to see what she looks like naked to get the job done. Crow asked me to keep an eye on her, and I will.

And when he asks me to dim the light from her eyes, I’ll hand her the fucking needle myself.

By some miracle, I managed to survive. I’m still on that adrenaline high when I walk out of the dressing room with all my cash in hand. Even after the house fee, there’s a lot of money here. Enough that it gives me hope I can actually make my dream come true. A few more weeks of this, and I’ll be solid.

I nearly smash into a broad chested man in the hall, and he winks at me with a playful smile as he helps me gather the jacket I just dropped. “Alright there?” he asks in a cheeky Irish accent.

“Yes, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

He flashes a dimple when his lips tilt up. “I liked your routine. Ye did a grand job up there.”

“Thanks.” I smile. “I was a bit nervous, but I think it went okay.”

He offers me his hand. “I’m Rory by the way.”

I shake his hand and offer my name reluctantly. I’m not here to make friends, but it’s pretty obvious this guy is a part of Crow’s outfit.

“Conor and I were just about to grab a bite to eat,” he says. “Would ye care to join us?”

I hesitate, uncertain how to navigate this terrain. I need this job, which means playing nice with these guys even though it’s the last thing I want to do.

“No funny business.” Rory holds up his hands. “Just dinner. Our treat.”

I offer him a weak nod. It’s not like I can refuse a free meal. Not when I’ve been existing on one a day if I’m lucky. “Okay, I guess dinner would be alright, as long as it’s just dinner.”

He holds up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

I follow him to the front of the club where Conor is sitting at the bar. His head is bowed forward, attention on the counter when he senses us approaching him. When he turns to find Rory beside me, his eyes darken and the muscle in his neck twitches. “What’s the deal with Twiggy?”

“Ivy,” I correct him with a glare.

Rory smirks. “Ivy here is coming to dinner with us. Isn’t that nice?”

Conor doesn’t seem at all pleased with the idea. His eyes are fixated on me, and he looks like he wishes I would just disappear. I don’t know what his problem is, but he’s got it out for me. I know I should look away and just let it go, but I can’t. There is something about those damning green eyes that render me immobile. I’ve never felt this kind of tension with anyone else. It’s so raw and intense it makes me feel weird all over.

The edgy silence persists until Rory clears his throat and I’m on the verge of telling them both I’ve changed my mind when Conor grunts. “Let’s get after it then.”


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