Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Trig chuckled, but his stomach muscles tightened at El’s touch. Was this an involuntary reaction, or did he want to show off? “You were never a kitten. That’s one of the things I like about you.”
El couldn’t help the butterflies fluttering in his chest and trying to break out of their prison. “Yeah? You like a challenge?” He chuckled, but with each passing second, he became more aware of marks on Trig’s body—not just of the fresh bruising, but the whole array of old scars.
A cut high on Trig’s forehead, mostly hidden by hair, and a large line left on his shoulder blade by broken glass. Both of those had been inflicted by Trig’s father before he’d run away from home at fifteen, but El’s mouth dried when he realized how many he did not recognize. Some, like the circular blemish on the side of his chest or the curved line on his left arm, had long healed, but the pink trail on his hair-dusted stomach was quite fresh, and looked too uneven to have been mended by a professional.
A new loathing for the Coffin Nails rose in El’s throat like bile. “Is it worth it? All that risk, to be a part of the club?” He ran his fingertips over the smooth scars. No matter what feelings he harbored for Trig, he wouldn't let his life be involved with those bikers. They were no better than the cartel.
Trig dropped the T-shirt and glanced at the spot where El was touching him. His Adam’s apple rolled up and down his throat, stretching the tanned skin in a way that made El’s mouth water despite the distressing marks of violence etched in Trig’s flesh.
“It is. And I… I chose to be in a role that puts me in danger. I have a talent for it. You saw it yourself,” Trig said, lifting his chin with a small smile.
He was proud of himself, and El couldn’t help but appreciate him for his efforts and skill, regardless whether he agreed with Trig’s life choices or not. But since the ridiculously tense abs kept being a distraction from the reality they needed to discuss, El continued to undress. At this rate, they’d never get cleaned up, and while a part of him wanted to stay in this stall forever to avoid facing reality, it was an impossible desire.
He gestured with his chin. “How did you get that scar? The big one?” The pale line cut horizontally across Trig’s entire abdomen, and while it was old, the sheer length of it made El’s vision grainy with worry. But Trig smiled and placed his hand on top of El’s, leading it along the mark. His flesh was so hot El itched to lean in and place his cheek on Trig’s treasure trail, but he suppressed the lusty thoughts enough to focus on his ex’s warm voice.
“I was still a prospect. One of the patches took me out on business, and we ended up ambushed. Grim’s a real pro, but there were so many of them, and he was about to be stabbed from behind. I didn’t have any bullets left, so I climbed on top of a car, and wanted to jump one of the guys attacking us. He was holding this sheet of metal and cut me with it hip to hip. My guts were literally out.”
Trig chuckled, and El was too shocked to establish whether it was a nervous kind of laugh, or if he really found it amusing in hindsight, so he kept still as Trig continued.
“Then came the reinforcements, and the guys got me to a hospital. Paid for everything, and patched me in on the day of my release. I think it impressed them that I had no fear, and Grim decided to take me on as a sort of apprentice. For the special jobs most guys in the club couldn’t do.”
Grim. Some nickname. El imagined others being called Jawbreaker, Slash, and Razor.
“Is he gay?” was all El managed to come up with, and he was so embarrassed about sounding jealous that he quickly tossed his dirty clothes to the floor and stepped into the shower stall, hidden behind a parting to avoid showing his face.
“Yeah. Thought you worried about them being homophobic,” Trig said. The clang of his belt buckle sent a pleasant shiver down El’s spine.
El snapped and banged his palm against the wall several times. “And now I’m worried you’re fucking them all, okay?” He had to press his forehead to the tiles to cool down, but it didn’t help as much as he’d hoped.
Silence was the only answer he got as fabric hit the floor behind the partition. El had no way of knowing whether Trig was watching him, yet he could feel the heat of the dark gaze painting lines over his naked back. He flexed his shoulders and ass just to prove that he was a better catch than whoever Trig had been fucking in his absence, regardless of the fact that it was completely irrational.