Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
My thumb rubs her puffy wet lips and her chin. “I take it that’s not the first dick you’ve had in your mouth?” Now that I can see straight, the thought of Gia’s mouth on another guy’s cock is not making me happy.
She stands and shakes her head no. I should respect that at least she’s not lying. Instead, I have to fight not tossing her on the bed and handcuffing her, only letting her up if I deem it. What the fuck, Granger?
“What are you expecting to happen with us?” I snap as I step back and pull up my shorts, trying to erase the irrational jealousy that’s pounding through my head.
“Everything.”
My eyes shift to hers and I shake my head. She can’t be that naïve.
“I’m not what you need, Gia.” It comes out harsh. My self-destructive demons are ready to take over.
“Maybe. But I’m exactly what you need,” she states, her long, still-damp hair cascading over her shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed and her lips… her fucking lips that have wrapped themselves around numerous cocks…
“You’re gonna get hurt,” I say.
“I think you underestimate me.”
I cock my head as I tell her the truth. “I will hurt you, Gia. It’s what I do.” I move past her stunned face and walk to the door.
“I’m not leaving, Rhys,” she announces like a threat.
I hesitate, then open the door, saying over my shoulder, “You will.” I shut the door, knowing that it’s true. I’m not the kind of man who’s going to be in a relationship.
I’m bad.
The man who makes all the girls cry. Only this time if I’m not careful, I might start believing her.
And then… I’ll be the one who can’t survive.
RHYS
Past – Twenty-seven years old
Minneapolis, Minnesota
“Goddammit, BT. What the fuck is going on, man?” I pull off the piece-of-shit ear monitor that shot static into my ear, causing it to ring.
“Let me get the new ones,” BT yells from somewhere.
“Watch your back.” Two stagehands maneuver behind me, carrying one of our huge lights. The stage is a disaster. Equipment is scattered everywhere, and we’re in Minnesota where it’s a whopping seven degrees outside. Needless to say, I’m not happy.
The way this morning is starting off, I need a cigarette and maybe a bottle of Jack.
“Granger.” Jerry walks up with a microphone. “I know we’re waiting on the others, but if you don’t mind.”
Sighing, I rub the back of my neck. “I don’t mind.” I need to stop being an ass. It’s not my crew’s fault I haven’t slept for days. I’m haunted by a pair of long legs and green eyes.
That and my music. It’s loud, demanding to come out of me. I’ve given up worrying when I get like this. I just let the music tell me where I need to be, like a lover who can never hurt me.
“Testing…” I don’t even bother saying more and shove the microphone back at him.
“Fix it, Jerry. We sounded like shit in Texas too.”
He nods. “I’ll reprogram again,” he grumbles, talking to himself as he walks away.
Misty sashays past Jerry, shaking her head at the way he incessantly talks to himself. She steps up to me, saving me from all the dark shit I’ve been thinking about, most of it concerning the Brat. The way her lips felt taking my cock. Her tight, wet cunt that’s made for only me.
“I thought you might need this.” Her voice makes me focus on her as she hands me a large coffee. The smell of Irish whiskey filters out from the top of the plastic cup.
I grin. “Misty, you never disappoint.” She smiles back as she bites her bottom lip.
“Nope, I never do. You need me to refresh your memory?” Her aggressive behavior is usually fun. I’ve fucked her numerous times. She’s willing to do anything. Unfortunately, this morning it does nothing for me.
Wrapping my arm around her, I kiss the top of her blond hair, pretending I didn’t get her blatant invitation.
“BT, how much longer, man?” I bellow, causing her to look up at me in confusion. Not that I blame her. I want to tell her I’m fucked up and to not take it personally.
“Arena’s fault.” BT walks up looking like a mad scientist. “It’s a miracle we’re doing as good as we are. The Wild played the Kings last night.”
“Perfect, maybe I should hire their crew since they broke down an ice rink in a night, and my team can’t seem to finish our rig.” I remove my arm from Misty. BT laughs while he tries to wrestle open a box wrapped tight with clear tape.
“Jesus, Granger.” Nuke walks by carrying a bottle of Jäger and it’s not yet noon.
“Lighten up, Frances.” He steps up to his throne and removes his shirt. “Misty.” He motions for her to come to him.