Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Can’t look after that place on my own. Too fuckin’ big.”
“Why’d you buy it then, brother?”
“Long fuckin’ story,” I answer, holding his eyes.
He should know by now I don’t talk about my shit. He should definitely know I don’t talk about my family, or my house, or my money, or anything to do with my life outside this club.
“You know, half the people in this place got no fuckin’ idea you’re loaded.”
I shrug. “Couldn’t give a fuck who knows and who doesn’t.”
He smirks. “Hope you’re makin’ sure she’s female.”
I glance at him. “Of course I’m fuckin’ makin’ sure she’s female. Not havin’ some hairy ass dude cleanin’ my house.”
“Got any hits?” Maverick asks, joining the conversation.
“Had three already, saw me, ran for the hills. Got another one this afternoon.”
“You wear your leather?” Koda smirks. “Scare all them bitches off ...”
“Too bad,” I grunt. “They can’t deal, they don’t get the job.”
“Most women are goin’ to run for the hills, brother,” Maverick points out. “You gotta know that.”
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Likely. I’ll find one eventually.”
“Let us come around this afternoon. Let’s face it, the next ones goin’ to be a runner too. Let us have fun with at least one of them.” Maverick grins, half his mouth raised in a shit-eating grin.
“Do whatever you want,” I say, standing. “Fuck knows I need some entertainment.”
“Gettin’ bored now things have gone quiet?” Malakai asks me.
“Yeah, fuck, shit got real there for a bit with Koda and Charlie. Been months now, and things are too fuckin’ quiet. I need somethin’ to liven me up.”
“Righto,” Maverick stands. “Beers at your house then. Let’s ride.”
I grin at him.
Should be interesting, at the very least.
“We should make a bet,” Boston says, standing and grinning. “How long it takes her to run out the front door.”
“Sounds fuckin’ good to me,” I murmur. “I throw down a fifty to say she’s gone within five minutes of seein’ you lot.”
“I bet fifty she is polite and acts like she’s interested but never calls back,” Maverick chuckles.
“I reckon she ain’t scared at all.” Koda smirks.
“Unlikely.” I chuckle. “But it’s a bet.”
“Well then, let’s ride. Things are about to get interesting.”
Fuck.
Indeed, they are.
~2~
SASKIA
Holy.
Shit.
I get out of my small, banged-up, red hatch and stare up at the three-story house in front of me. A driveway that wraps around a massive fountain. A grand entry with stairs made of stone that leads up to a beautiful front deck filled with wooden swing chairs and awesome outdoor furniture. The house is dark brick, stone maybe, and looks rustic and old school, like something from a vampire movie or some such thing.
It’s breathtaking.
And so big, so fucking big.
I run my fingers through my hair and adjust my shirt. I glance down, wondering if I’m underdressed. I thought about dressing up, looking professional, but the truth is that just isn’t me, and if I’m going to be working here, they need to know who they’re dealing with. And this is who I am. Loose black tee that dips down at the sides so you can see my sports bra underneath. Tight blue jeans and Converse sneakers. My hair, black as the night, is long, thick, slightly curled and mostly always down around my shoulders.
I don’t wear a great deal of makeup. My slate-grey eyes, olive skin, and full lips give me what Chantelle calls natural beauty. Fine by me. I’m not much of a makeup girl, to be honest. Hell, I’m starting to think it’s entirely possible I don’t actually own a dress. No lie. I’ve never been that kind of woman, much to my mother’s horror. Not like my sister. She’s the perfect female in every way.
And I’m just ... me.
And that’s completely okay.
I walk up to the front doors and notice a bunch of bikes parked off to the left. Harley Davidson’s. Very nice. The owner must be a collector or has a whole lot of friends who ride. Either way is cool with me. I love bikes. And cars. And anything that makes an angry sound while you’re operating it. I walk up the front steps, glancing around. It sure wouldn’t be awful to live here. Man, I can’t even imagine what the inside looks like.
I reach the front door and knock, then I step back and wait.
For a moment, I think no one is going to answer. Then, the door opens, and a man fills the large gap. And boy, does he fill it. For a second, I just stare at him because, well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything in my life that looks like him. Ever. Not ever. My mouth drops open, and I just stare, completely blindsided and shocked.
He.
Is.
To.
Die.
For.
I’m not even joking.
He would have to be the scariest man I’ve ever laid eyes on in my entire damned life, and yet he’s so incredibly gorgeous I can’t even swallow. I don’t even want to. I just want to stare at him for the next ten minutes with my mouth hanging open, dreaming of all the incredibly hot things a man that looks like him could do to your body.