Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Hunter parked his new truck right in front of the strip club. Nothing fancy. In addition to everything else that sucked about the accident, he hadn’t been able to collect on his insurance. Bullet holes tend to draw cops, and the last thing either club wanted was law enforcement poking around. I’d offered to help pay for the new rig, but Hunter had blown me off, making it clear he could afford to buy his own ride. I wondered about that … Working part time as a mechanic wasn’t exactly lucrative, but if the Jacks were anything like the Reapers, his income stream was probably creative.
Hunter texted Burke, who stepped outside about five minutes later. I don’t know what I expected, but Burke wasn’t it. He was old—way older than my dad or our national president, Shade. More like Duck’s age. His hair was long and gray, and he kept it pulled back in a ponytail. He had a full beard, and it was long, too.
Skid followed him, and we eyed each other warily.
Me and Skid had an uncomfortable truce these days. Kelsey and I shared a place now, thanks to him. I still slept over at the house a lot, but nothing like before. I guess that was a winning solution for all of us. Well, all of us but Hunter. The idea of me and Kelsey living together seemed to scare him a little, and I guess I could understand that. It certainly made it easier to gang up on him.
“I’m Burke,” the Devil’s Jacks president said, stepping forward. “You must be Em?”
I smiled and nodded.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” I said.
“You’re not much, for a girl who causes so much trouble,” he said bluntly. “I pictured you with bigger tits.”
My smile didn’t falter for a minute.
“I’m still saving up for my boob job,” I told him politely. “Until then, I’m afraid Hunter’s stuck with me like this. On the bright side, I give excellent head. He had to pay my father six whole goats for me, you know.”
Hunter choked, but Burke burst out laughing. Skid’s eyes widened, and he gave me a sly nod of approval.
“Well, she’s not shy.”
“Not even a little,” Hunter said, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me close. “You said you wanted to show us something?”
“Yeah,” Burke said. “I’ll ride with Skid. You follow.”
Hunter tugged me toward his truck and we climbed in.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack back there,” he said. “And I think you gave him the wrong impression—it wasn’t goats, it was kegs.”
“My bad,” I murmured. “It’s so hard for me to hold all that information in my little female head. I get all confused.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said blandly. “I can tell you what to do. We have to keep that feeble little brain of yours from getting tired.”
I smacked his leg hard and he pretended to whimper as Skid pulled out ahead of us. Hunter followed, reaching over to lay a hand on my bare leg, running his fingers up and down my thigh as we drove.
God, how could I want him again so soon?
We didn’t actually drive that far, but traffic was slow enough that it took a good twenty minutes before Skid pulled off into a residential neighborhood. The houses were all old, built in the typical Portland style. Narrow lots, high porches, trees everywhere. The house he pulled up to looked solid enough, but the paint was peeling and the lawn was practically a jungle. Interesting …
“What’s this?” I asked Hunter. He shrugged.
“No idea.”
I opened the passenger-side door, then tried to figure out how to get out of the truck without showing my goodies off to the entire world. Hunter smirked, but he came around and lifted me down, setting me on the sidewalk like a perfect gentleman. Skid and Burke were already up on the porch, watching us with interest.
We climbed up the stairs to join them.
Burke stuck a key in the door and opened it, gesturing for us to go inside. The place was completely empty, and while you could tell it had gorgeous lines, the house clearly needed work. The floors were all wood, but they were scratched to hell and back. It had a shotgun layout—living room, dining room, and kitchen all in a straight line. I assumed bedrooms were upstairs.
“What do you think?” Burke asked Hunter. “In addition to this, there’s an old carriage house out back. You’d never know it, but it’s a double lot. Spans the block.”
“It’s solid construction,” he said. “But not quite sure why we’re here.”
“I’m buying it,” Burke said. “Figured you and Em might like a house of your own. What do you think?”
HUNTER
I stared at Burke, wary. Em’s eyes were wide, but she didn’t say anything—proof positive that she was her father’s daughter. She’d drill me later, but she wouldn’t give away shit in front of witnesses. Good thing, too, because Burke was a twisty fucker, and for all I knew this was some kind of elaborate test of some kind.