Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 79938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Somehow, it was even harder, hungrier than it had been at the compound. Maybe over a week of pent-up frustration did that to us. But his lips bruised into mine; his teeth bit; his tongue owned mine.
And it coursed through me, making my brain fuzzy, making my skin tingle, making me flush, putting every kind of alcohol I had ever had to shame. Anytime, any day, I would much prefer the sensation of being drunk on Pagan than anything else.
I swayed against him, my hands going up to grab his biceps, sure I would just melt into a puddle of need on the floor if I didn't hold onto something solid.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, it was over. His lips ripped from mine. My eyelids fluttered open, my breathing heavy, my gaze just a little sex-hazy. His hand rose, snagging my chin.
"Wear whatever the fuck you want," he said as way of parting words, turned, and was gone.
"Giiiirl," Benny said, fanning himself with the appointment book. "I'm as gay as Todrick's ballet shoes and even I have a semi from that." I exhaled a long, deep breath. "Oh, honey, you got a case of the blue tubes right now, don't you?" he asked, looking sympathetic. "If it's any consolation, it's only one more day until that man can be all up in your lady cave."
That, somehow, managed to break through the almost overwhelming need coursing through my veins, setting my whole body on fire.
"I'm not getting involved with some arms-dealing biker named Pagan, Benny."
"Why not?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.
"Arms. Dealing. Biker."
"We all have our flaws," he tried, but his eyes were dancing.
"Yeah like stretch marks on our asses or drinking out of the carton, not buying and selling guns illegally and cage fighting."
"Listen, sister. I'm no expert in the pink peach area," he said, and I chuckled. He could say 'vagina' when he talked about the wall color, but heaven forbid he actually talked about the actual thing with the right word. "But I think you might be nearing that re-virgination thing. Take the bad boy for a ride. That's all it would be. A good, fast, dirty, bed-breaking ride. Then move on. Trust me, life always seems a lot more tolerable after a good orgasm."
There was a part of me, maybe even a big part of me, that had a feeling that before Monday night was over, I might have been feeling a lot less... stressed.
It was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
SIX
Pagan
"Where were you?" Repo asked when I walked in, going directly behind the bar for a beer because, well, it was hot as balls out and I needed something cool. That and maybe I needed a little oblivion to stop obsessing about fucking goddamn Kennedy already.
"Oh, didn't you know?" Maze asked, her hair perfectly dyed from the Benny guy. "Pagan has a giiiirlfriend," she teased, shooting me a smile. "Pagan and Kennedy sitting in a tree..."
"Come the fuck on!" Cyrus said, slamming his drink down on the coffee table. "No way are you settling down with that girl. Granted, she's gorgeous and all that, but I need my wingman."
"Got a room full of new prospects," I said, waving a hand toward the new addition that was set up barracks-style for just that reason. Then, realizing exactly what I had just said- insinuating that I was serious about Kennedy- I rushed to cover. "Besides, I'm not fucking dating anyone. You know me enough to know that's not my style."
"Wasn't supposed to be any of those fucks' style," Cyrus complained, waving a hand toward Cash, Reign, and Duke who were on the other side of the room talking, "and yet they're all locked down now. Love Summer, Lo, Penny, and all the other crazy chicks, you too Maze, angel," he said, shooting her a smile that worked on way too many girls in bars. But Maze, having his number, was unaffected. "But we're too young for settling down. Booze and brotherhood and b... ladies," he covered when Penny walked in, raising a brow at his almost-slip.
"Where are the puppies?" Maze asked, looking around. "Did you guys lock them up so they don't piddle on the rug again?"
"Sugar, Virgin, and Roderick all went to the gym," Cyrus said, lip curling slightly.
"Aw, the bromance begins," Maze said, walking toward Cyrus and sitting down. "Where's that other one then? The one who looks like he was maybe raised in the woods?"
That'd be Roan.
He did sort of have that primal, wolf-like look to him.
"Mult timp în urmā, frate," Edison's growl dragged my attention to where he and the man in question had been walking out of the kitchen. "Mult timp," he added with a nod as he moved away.
Generally, I didn't give a fuck about the background of my brothers. Maybe a part of that was because I didn't want them to know all of mine, but there was something about Edison that I just could never put my finger on. Maybe it was as simple as strange characters like Wolf and Roan seemed to know who he was by name and reputation alone, while the rest of us barely knew one damn detail about him.