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)
“You got a criminal record?”
I snort. “No, not unless you count stealing a bra when I was twelve, but granted, it was really pretty, and I didn’t embrace the boobies at that stage in life, so I wanted to hide them.”
He blinks, someone behind me chuckles.
“You an alcoholic?”
“Only on the weekends.”
He presses his mouth together. Somebody else laughs.
“Smoke?”
“No, sir.”
“Into drugs?”
“Does coffee and chocolate count? Because honestly, those two things are pretty addictive ...”
He just keeps on staring. It’s like trying to crack a brick wall with a feather duster.
I’m intrigued.
I like a good challenge.
“Is that all, or would you like to know the color panties I’m wearing, also? They’re pink, before you ask. And no, I’m not usually a fan of pink, far too girly, however, they were the only ones I had left at such short notice.”
Another chuckle behind me.
Mason continues to stare.
Like he’s never met anyone like me before.
That’s not unusual. I get that a lot.
“I can cook, thanks to having a Maltese mother. I can clean like a champ. I’m a hard worker, and best of all, I’m not even the slightest bit scared of you. So, I think you and I both know you’re going to give me the job.”
Mason’s brows go up. “That so?”
I cross my arms. “That’s so. I don’t lie. I don’t steal. I don’t cheat. I’ll respect your house and do the job you give me. Easy as that.”
“You don’t hire her, brother,” Malakai says, stepping up beside me, “I fuckin’ will.”
“Well, your chance is nearly gone, in that case,” I point out to Mason. “Malakai here might just have a better offer ...”
Mason looks to Malakai then mutters, “Full-time. You know the pay. Live here. Stay outta my way and do what I ask and we’ll have no problems. You’re hired.”
I beam and clap my hands together, turning to Malakai. “Is he always so pleasant?”
Malakai grins and says, “Always, darlin’.”
Well.
This is going to be a hoot.
~3~
SASKIA
“So,” Chantelle says, skipping into my apartment later that night.
Of course, she doesn’t knock, she doesn’t have to. She’s like part of the furniture. She just comes as a part of me. Where I am, she usually is. What’s mine is, more often than not, hers, too. That’s fine with me. I enjoy her company and, mostly, she makes me laugh. She’s the best friend a girl could ask for, and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.
My family isn’t exactly what you’d consider the best family to be raised into. My mother is spoiled, my father is a bit of a dick, and my sister, well, it embarrasses me that we’re related, let alone that I have to take claim to her. She’s selfish, cold, and the cruelest human being I’ve ever met. I’m not sure how, considering we were raised the same and I managed to keep my morals. Sure, I can be selfish when I need, and I don’t take a lot to heart, but her ...?
She’s a different kind of evil.
So, it’s safe to say Chantelle is the only family I have.
And I adore her.
“You’re never going to believe it,” I tell her, eyes wide, rushing over.
“What? What? Share with me, woman!”
“The man who owns the house, the one looking for a maid, is a biker!”
She stares at me for a second, and then blinks. “A what?”
“A biker. You know, like leather jackets, motorcycles, clubs. Biker.”
“Oh, my lord,” she squeals. “I paired you with a dirty old biker? That’s classic.”
“No, no, no,” I tell her, grinning. “Not dirty and old.” I lean in close. “Fucking hot.”
“What?” she squeals, jumping backward. “Okay. I need to sit down. This just keeps on getting better. Share more. Hot. How so? Tell me everything.”
We both sit on my old, faded, baby-blue sofa that’s probably breeding its own type of semen it’s been fucked on that much—not by me, of course—but I do enjoy a party here and there, and old blue here seems to attract the best of them.
“So, this gorgeous biker answers the door. And when I say gorgeous, I mean to die for. Dark features, scar on his face, like a freaking God. All broody and quiet. That’s not the best part, the best part is the rest of them that appeared. There were like freakin’ four of them. They’d made a bet to see who could guess how long it would take me to run. Apparently, all the other maids took one look at Mason, the owner, and ran.”
Chantelle grins. “Not you, my tiger.”
“Not me, sister. I waltzed in there, completely fascinated. I mean, bikers! And hot bikers! I needed to know more. And lord, they were so fricking good looking, it hurt my eyes to stare at them. But, you want to know the best part?”
She shakes her head, eyes wide.