Pretty Monster Read Online Sheridan Anne

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 123672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 495(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
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“Oh, I’ll be coming, just not in your sweet little cunt, or your pretty mouth, or in that tight ass. Not until you’ve worked out what the fuck you want, because right now, I don’t think you have a damn clue.”

Pressing my hand against his chest, I force him back a step to give me space to breathe, and he doesn’t hesitate. He’s respecting my boundaries, but he doesn’t dare take that intense stare off mine. “You’re pretty damn sure of yourself.”

Alex nods. “Do you want a man who’s going to give you what you want, or give you what you need?”

“I—” I cut myself off because honestly, I have no fucking idea, and as he stares at me with that knowing sparkle in his eye, I want nothing more than to smack the cockiness off his face.

“Think about it, and when you’re ready for me to really take you out, you know where to find me. Until then, I’m going to enjoy listening to the way you come through the wall while screaming my name.” And with that, Alex is gone, leaving me gasping for air and having absolutely no idea what the fuck just happened.

10

KYAH

The mid-city bar is crowded as I weave my way through the throng of rowdy partiers, but despite the noise and the chaos of the bar, I hear my best friend’s voice as clearly as though she were standing right next to me, screaming directly into my ear.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN, SKANK?” Nat roars across the bar. “YOU’RE OVER AN HOUR LATE!”

I groan, rolling my eyes as a stupid grin tears across my face. I learned a long time ago not to get embarrassed by Nat’s ability to make her voice carry across a room. She’s always been loud, since the first day of our freshman year of high school when I faced off against Kelly Blake in my first-ever fistfight.

Nat was right there, and when it was clear I was about to have my ass kicked, she jumped in and whooped that bitch’s ass, despite not even knowing my name. We’ve been best friends since, and I’m proud to say that since then, I’ve more than shaped up my fistfighting skills. Hell, I’d be more than happy to go for a round or two with Kelly now and finally have my chance to put her in her place, but on the other hand, I also like to think that I’m not that messy high schooler who didn’t know what was good for her anymore. I’ve grown. I’m a woman now, and I’ve worked hard to achieve this life.

At seventeen, I was a mess and had traveled down far too many dark paths. The day I stumbled upon High Voltage Ink and met Big Jim, I fully believe an angel was looking down on me. Without Big Jim, I don’t know where I’d be today. Probably already dead. He saved me, gave me something to work toward, and because of that, I owe him everything. Hell, his willingness to pull me out of the darkness and set me straight also meant that through association, Nat was able to keep out of trouble too. Since then, she’s had the world in the palm of her hands and has been making it her bitch.

She has always had an overwhelming need to help people, to stand at their back at the worst of times and help them through, so it was no surprise when she was offered a job as a 911 operator right out of school. She was put through all the necessary training and took her job seriously, and now at twenty-three, she’s been awarded for the work she’s done in helping save lives, but she doesn’t do it for the recognition or the praise, all she’s ever wanted was to help.

Last year, she was finally able to move out of the shitty rental she shared with her ex-boyfriend and purchased her first home. It’s modest and needs a few upgrades, but those four walls are all hers, and I’ve never been so proud.

Finally weaving through all the bodies, I make it to Nat’s table, and she immediately tumbles out, throwing her arms around me in a tight hug, clearly already a few drinks ahead of me. “Sorry,” I say, knowing damn well she’s about to give me shit for being so late. “Today was a weird day, and my last client was late and grouchy. I got out of there as soon as I could.”

“I ordered you a drink,” she says, her gaze falling to the table where there are two empty glasses. “But it didn’t last very long.”

I cringe. “Tell me it wasn’t tequila,” I ask, knowing how she gets when she’s had too much tequila, but it’s her drink of choice, just as it is mine, but she guzzles that stuff like it’s water.


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