Dirty (RAW Family #2) Read Online Belle Aurora

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: RAW Family Series by Belle Aurora
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Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
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Mihailović doesn’t know it yet, but The Yugo Boys are done. Their time has come to disband, and I don’t feel the least bit sorry for making that happen.

After taking down Neo Metaxas and the pinnacle shot that saved Black’s life, I had been given more freedom to do as I please. Not that I ever need permission.

I always was more an ask forgiveness than permission type of guy.

So when Ethan Black told me that I no longer needed to remain indoors so long as I wore sunglasses and clothes that covered my tattoos, I did what I’m sure was expected, and I laughed at him.

Had he learned nothing about me in our time in partnership?

He glared at me a whole minute before shaking his head and walking away, only to return a moment later and bark at me to decide on what I wanted for dinner.

I chose steak, and I requested it from a decent place too.

I expected a dispute and wound up surprised when Black cooled his jets and agreed. When he muttered something about wanting to chew on a nice, thick piece of meat, I bit my tongue. I mean, c’mon. He set that one up from a mile away. I really wanted to tell him that he couldn’t chew on mine but I wasn’t in the mood for a war of words with the guy who had a four-foot stick shoved up his ass.

The food arrived, and Black paid the delivery guy, moving the brown paper bags of dinner into the kitchen. We sat in silence, dishing up our own plates before sampling what was one of the best cuts of meat of my life. Either it was sincerely incredible, or it had been way too long since I had eaten a decent meal.

I was thinking a little from column A, a little from column B.

The scab on the apple of my cheek had itched almost constantly since my first session of laser tattoo removal. The skin specialist I spoke to told me that because the tattoo had been done so long ago and had already faded quite a bit that she was confident I wouldn’t need any more than five sessions, but she would judge how clean the area looked after four.

She advised me that after the session, the skin might swell or blister. I wasn’t too happy about that. She then said the area would likely scab, itch, and bleed. That kind of sucked. Then she reminded me to stay out of the sun, massage the area for ten minutes a day and drink plenty of water to stay hydrated. I was confused. They were treating me like I was going to have an amputation or some shit.

Luckily, I had only been subject to the scabbing and itching, nothing too serious. But still, I couldn’t shave and had already started to harbor a decent growth, which prickled. For the moment, I was irritated as hell.

As I lifted my hand to scratch at the area, Black coughed in warning. My hand fell back down to the table, causing my cutlery to clang loudly against my plate.

“It’s only for a little while,” he muttered unsympathetically.

My lip curled at his cool reasoning. “Gotta do this shit maybe five times over. Didn’t know it’d feel like this.” I sighed loudly, picking up my fork and jabbing a garlic green bean before shoving it into my mouth, then garbled, “I want to shave, dammit.”

Black’s lip twitched.

Motherfucker wanted a go at me. “What?”

He wheezed out a laugh, cutting his rare steak and stabbing a piece then using his fork to point at me. “You’re acting like a little bitch.”

I was dumbfounded.

Did this wrinkly ole ball sack know who the fuck he was dealing with?

I deserved respect.

At my stunned silence, he tipped his head back and laughed with glee. “Oh, I know you won’t like hearing it, but goddamn. You haven’t stopped complaining the entire time we’ve been here.” He got serious, tilting his head to the side, looking at me with pure frustration. “I have a wife. I have two sons and a daughter. Do you think I’d rather be here with your surly ass or home with them?” I didn’t answer, because if I did, I’d leave myself open to being called Captain Obvious. He went on, “You hear me finding fault with every damn thing?”

No. He wasn’t. But it wasn’t a fair comparison. “You get to see your wife and kids any time. My entire life depends on this next couple of months.” I held him with a stare. “You’ve had your family for a long time. A little time away from them can’t possibly hurt. Fuck, might even feel like a holiday to you.” I played with my food. “It ain’t the same thing.” I might’ve been sulking, but I didn’t care. “My woman mourned me. I got a son that doesn’t know his pops. He’s my world, and he doesn’t—” I stood fast, cutting myself off.


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