Convict Read online A. Zavarelli (Sin City Salvation #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89493 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
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“Huck,” she chanted, grinding her hips against my palm.

My mouth latched onto the soft globe of her breast through the tank top, throat working as I sucked. She was getting close. I could feel it in the tightening of her muscles. Her thighs squeezing around my hips. Every lash of my tongue incited a fresh wave of goose bumps on her skin. I was in control. But then she reached down and dragged her nails over my jeans, scraping against the hardness of my cock.

“Birdie,” I rasped. “Don’t.”

Her only answer was a growl as she tipped her head back to reveal the delicate flesh of her throat. I yanked my hand out of her jeans and grabbed both sides of her ass, dragging her against me as my lips found her neck. My teeth bit into her skin, claiming her as I jackhammered my body against hers.

The counter shook, and more shit fell to the floor. But I kept going. I kept grinding my dick against her, knowing that just beneath the barrier, her pussy was soaked for me. Birdie clung to me, nails biting into my arms. She was shaking. Breathless. On the verge of desperation as she pleaded for me to keep going.

And then she fractured, her body shuddering against me before she went completely limp in my arms. In the aftermath, she almost fell out of my grasp, but I caught her. Cheeks flushed and eyes heavy, she looked up at me, and then down between us, where my throbbing dick was still pressing at the zipper of my jeans.

Confusion clouded her eyes, and it was evident she didn’t know what to do now. Neither did I. Her lips were swollen from our kiss, and red patches bloomed on the surface of her skin where I’d sucked. She was thoroughly marked by me, and for now, that was enough.

Leaning forward, I kissed her one last time and then swatted her on the ass as I helped her down. “Let’s eat.”

HUCK WILLIAM FALLON.

A little light snooping around his office while he disappeared into the bathroom had given me some insight into the man who’d just crawled inside my soul and rattled my caged heart. It was still beating hard from our encounter, and I was still trying to come back down to earth.

I didn’t even know how it happened. One minute, he was looking at me with those soulful whiskey eyes, and the next, I was spreading my legs for him. He was beautiful. Animalistic. Addictive. I realized when he was kissing me, touching me, wrecking me… it would be so easy to fall into a habit I couldn’t shake. I wanted him in ways I’d never wanted a man. I craved the intimacy of his eyes on mine while he was inside me. Fucking me. Owning me. Destroying me.

His office smelled like him, and it wasn’t making it any easier to pull myself out of this quicksand. Now was my opportunity to run. I told myself that was what I was going to do this morning. But maybe I could stay. Just a little longer.

In this bubble, none of the things that could destroy me existed. The video. The detective. My past. It was just Huck and me. He was teaching me how to fix the broken, and I thought maybe he could figure out how to fix me too.

My fingers trailed over his desk, touching all his things with a possessiveness I didn’t recognize. He was a simple man, and his office reflected that. Wooden rolling chair. Six ballpoint pens. Bills marked “paid” with tidy black ink. There were tools I didn’t recognize. Wires and spare parts. I imagined that his brain must look like this too. He had a mind unlike anyone else I knew, and I wished for the life of me I could figure it out.

When I turned to look for something else to put my fingers on, I found him lurking in the doorway. He’d been watching me, and his expression bordered on tense. He didn’t like people touching his things. I sensed that when I was working with him and by the way his guys used their own tools on their own side of the shop.

“You better get used to it,” I told him. “If you plan to keep me around.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he stepped inside, draping his long, heavy-duty body into the wooden chair. Carefully, and without words, he unwrapped his sandwich and began to eat. I parked up on his desk, my legs swinging freely as I nibbled on my own sandwich and left the veggies behind. Huck noticed, and it seemed to bother him, but he chose not to say anything. This time.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly fast, and when I checked the clock on his dashboard during the ride home, it was hard to believe we’d put in a solid eight hours. But Huck’s work was never done, which I realized when we got back to the compound, and he drove straight to the warehouse.


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