Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
“Where does Jigsaw come up with this shit?” Z groans.
“It’s cute. Look how enthralled the kids are.”
He sighs and kisses my forehead. “Man, the rage that went through me when I heard you scream…it’s a good thing you tried to stop me. By the time I caught up to him, I wasn’t as pissed.”
“Hope and I were finishing our conversation about my run-in with Sophie, so honestly, it was a perfect distraction.”
“How’d that go?” he asks.
“Like you said, she wasn’t bothered at all.”
“Good.” He grits his teeth. “Let’s go to dinner at your family’s Sunday. For your brother. Anyone starts ragging on you, we’ll just get up and leave.”
I consider the offer, appreciating it more than I can express, but in my heart, it’s not what I want. At all. “Nah.” I scan the parking lot. My gaze lands on Trinity and I lift my hand to wave at her. “Trinity has a whole autumn-themed menu planned for Sunday.” I meet Z’s eyes again. “I don’t want to miss family dinner night with my true family. But thank you for offering.”
“Lilly?” His voice drops to a serious tone. “You realize I’d burn the world to the ground for you.”
“I know.” I lean up and kiss his cheek. “And that’s why I’d do the same for you.”
CHAPTER NINE
Ravage
Halloween Party
New Empire Clubhouse
Exhaustion pulls me upstairs. We’ve got a few hours before the party officially kicks off, but I’ve been awake for the last twenty-four hours pulling things together. The clubhouse is currently full of kids and ol’ ladies, which is cool and all, they were invited. But it seems like a safe time to escape for a nap.
I jog up the stairs, heading for the room at the end of the hallway. Even though we reserved a room for each officer, fuck knows none of them have ever spent a night here. Rock said he didn’t care if I used his room. He hasn’t even stepped foot in the suite since the first open house we had to celebrate the new space.
At the door, I stop and listen.
Is that water running? Or noise from downstairs?
Probably noise from one of the other rooms.
I twist the key in the lock and push the door open. This suite isn’t as grand as the room Rock and Hope share at the compound. Construction costs were through the roof, so we chose function over fancy shit like we have at the main clubhouse. But at least we can behave like a real MC here, instead of a Brady Bunch family reunion every damn night.
Although, I have to admit, I’m fond of family dinner nights. And Z’s son is kinda cool when he lets you play with his toy cars. The kid has like a million of ’em.
But here we can have as many girls as we want hang out and not have to worry about them dissing the ol’ ladies or starting shit. Because when it comes to disrespecting one of my brother’s ol’ ladies, I’m always going to side with the ol’ lady, and that makes it difficult to get my dick sucked in peace.
Anyway, inside the room there’s a king-sized bed—of course—a dresser, and a flat-screen television. What more does a man need? To my right there’s a small closet and the door to the attached bathroom.
Huh. Why’s the bathroom door closed?
My gaze drops to the floor and light is spilling underneath. A shadow crosses the light.
The bathroom doorknob twists and creaks.
Fuck, someone’s in there.
I beat a hasty retreat but I’m not quick enough.
Hope emerges with a short, white towel wrapped around her curvy body. Her long hair’s twisted into a knot on top of her head but little sprigs escaped, water dripping from the ends.
Must. Not. Look. At. President’s. Wife.
Naked.
Skin.
Pale, creamy skin flushed pink from her shower. Oh fuck.
Whoever bought the towels for the clubhouse deserves a medal. The thing’s too small to fully wrap all the way around Hope’s impressive chest, so a wide slit gives me a view of bare thigh and hip. None of the good stuff, yet. Although, if she moves another inch to the left, I might—
Rock’s going to murder me.
It’ll be worth it, though.
“Ravage!” Hope gasps. “Oh my gosh.” She jumps backward—an impressive leap that unfortunately for me doesn’t dislodge the already loose towel.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Shit, fuck. What did I just do? “I’m sorry, Hope.”
I hurry into the hallway, slamming the door behind me.
Can’t. Unsee.
I press my back against the wall and close my eyes. All I see is drops of water running over bare thigh.
“She’s a dolphin, she’s a dolphin, she’s a dolphin,” I mutter to myself over and over.
It’s not working. Z’s theory that a brother’s ol’ lady can’t possibly be hot because once she’s claimed, she’s a dolphin is a total fucking scam. I can’t picture Hope as anything other than hot, wet, and almost naked.