Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
How would she know if I’m a good man or not? Ty glanced over her curvy frame. He did it quickly and discreetly. He wasn’t immune to her beauty. He was controlled but he was still a red-blooded man and his pseudo-reborn-virgin-like status was getting old fast. He needed to socialize more and meet more people in his age group.
“I’d like to get to know you better,” she said softly.
He always thought Sharain was nice, even though he didn’t get a queen feel from her. Maybe he hadn’t given her a real chance. He liked that she had goals and aspirations to expand her business to other cities, and he also knew that she provided free hair care to women in underprivileged neighborhoods. His neighborhood. She had a kind heart…that’s a start, right?
“I can see you thinking so hard.” She laughed lightly, batting her eyes. Her lips spread across her face, the creamy tan gloss drawing his attention as she licked the tip of her tongue over her plump bottom one. His groin warmed, but not much. He wanted to feel more. “We don’t have to go out. You can come over to my house. A little company, some music over getting to know one another, nothing serious. Friends.”
Company did sound better than eating alone like he did every night. “Sure, I can do that.”
“Really?” She smiled, clasping her hands together.
Ty smirked at her silliness. He was no prize. Just a man.
“And I got a little smile too.” She brushed past him, looking up into his eyes as she did. “My place, seven o’clock. And bring that smile, handsome.”
Ty left the shop feeling lighter than usual. He had a date. For the first time in two years, he had a date. He should’ve been more excited, but part of him already wanted to cancel. He knew the fire was missing but maybe they could create a spark…and then…
Ty sighed. He knew it didn’t work that way.
Kellam
“You have a fire inside you, Kell. A spark that your skills ignite, and it makes you explosive. You’re brilliant and fast,” his sensei told him. “But you don’t know everything. You need to control your temper.”
“They jumped on that kid for nothing, Sensei. He ran, but he wasn’t fast enough. Why teach me these skills if I can’t use them to help others?” Kell fumed, his nose still bleeding, his fist swollen, and knuckles scuffed from meeting bone. He’d taken on seven of them. Seven bullies who were recovering in the WellStar Medical Center while he’d been in lock-up for the last nine hours.
Quick yanked Kell by his collar and dragged him farther into the dojo. “You could’ve seriously injured, or even killed them. They’re not on your level, so you’ve disgraced yourself. Your victory is pyrrhic. If you don’t learn to control yourself, the authorities will classify your skills as a weapon. And I’ll no longer be able to help you. You have to be careful.”
“It’s them that should be careful, not me, Sensei.” Kell growled.
Quick pulled on his long hair, a clear sign he was frustrated with him… again.
Kell didn’t like to see his master so upset. He knew better. His mentor/master/sensei deserved better than to be woken at three in the morning to come rescue him, yet again. Roman Webb—nicknamed, Quick—had been saving him his entire life. From the days he’d been a young heir and a member of Atlanta’s high society, Kell had been nothing but trouble and disappointment.
If it wasn’t for Quick, Kell would probably be serving a lengthy sentence in some penitentiary. He had a temper and many men had felt his wrath. He’d been bullied, abandoned, beaten and kicked for as long as he could remember. It was only natural he’d start kicking back at some point. It was Quick who’d found him running from five boys on Whitehall Street in his private school uniform nineteen years ago. At the time, he’d been too small, too weak, too young to defend himself. All he could do back then was curl up in a ball on the ground or haul ass. Now, he no longer had to run. He was no longer afraid. Not of bullies, his abusive father, not of the fucked-up judicial system, not anyone. He was truly free. He had no fear.
He had no one.
“I’m working on something for you Kellam. Something big, but you’re blowing it.” Quick’s deep voice sent shivers down Kell’s spine. “I’ve talked to Duke about you again. I thought you were done with this juvenile bullshit. Fighting on street corners.”
“I wasn’t figh—”
“Shut your mouth when I’m speaking!” Quick barked in his face, making Kell snap his mouth closed.
My apologies, Sensei. He tried to say with his eyes, because he wouldn’t dare speak again. Kell didn’t back down from anyone out there on the street, but when it came to Roman Webb, he gave the Grandmaster every bit of the respect he deserved and had earned. To Kell, it was an honor to converse with him on any level. Even being reprimanded.