Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I’m a dream crusher,” I say absently.
“You’re playing with fire,” Lynch warns.
His mention of flames brings a flash of memory back. Cherry’s hair was so red, I remember thinking it looked like wild flames all around her as she wrapped her mouth around a dick that didn’t belong to her.
Doesn’t belong to you either.
“Is that what attracted you to Cherry?”
He frowns at my question as if he’s irritated I brought her up in the first place.
“Does my dark hair not do it for you?” I point to the knot of messy hair on my head. “Not exotic enough for you?”
“Maybe we should go home.” Molly grips my elbow, but I refuse to move. This has been coming to a head for a while, and right now is as good a time as any to hash this shit out.
“I think that’s a great idea.” I feel Molly bristle beside me at Briar’s agreement.
“I fuck all the new girls,” Lynch spits, a little late to the party in his explanation about Cherry.
“Nice, Prez,” Briar criticizes.
“I mean, I used to,” Lynch corrects.
Too late. The damage is done. It takes an evil, sick asshole to keep acting the way he has been, and I’m fucking tired of it.
“Maybe I should fuck all the new guys then?” I turn to walk in the direction of the living room where I know a few new hangarounds are talking with some of the patched members.
“Enough,” he spits.
The next thing I know, my world turns upside down, and a brutal hand is gripping my ass.
“About fucking time,” I hear Molly say as the sounds of the party disappear.
I don’t realize he’s thrown me over his damn shoulder until Lynch puts me back on my feet in the room I’ve recently considered the death chamber. It’s where any and all chances of having him for real died a little over a week ago when I wrapped my lips around Ronan’s dick.
Chapter 35
Lynch
“You’re a fucking caveman,” Candi says as she reaches out to slap my chest. As much as I want her to touch me, I take a step back to avoid the contact.
She misses and stumbles a few feet before I grab her and stand her up straight. Selfishly, I hold her against my chest. I’ve missed the warmth of her body since I crawled out of bed with her almost a week and a half ago.
The thrumming pulse, the sky-rocketing blood pressure, and all the questions in my head settle the second I pull her against me. The tangy smell of liquor on her breath mixes with a flowery scent that’s all her own. I’m lost in her once again, always lost yet grounded when she’s in my arms.
“I’m going to be sick,” she mutters, but makes no move to go to the bathroom.
Her words break the serenity I’m allowing myself to feel. In a rush, I scoop her up and carry her to the toilet, putting her down and angling her toward the bowl mere seconds before she pukes. And pukes. And pukes.
My stomach clenches at the sight, but it’s the sound that makes me want to rip my own ears off. I can gut a man from nuts to neck and never bat an eyelash, but the sound of someone vomiting just activates the same response in me. My stomach twists and turns, threatening to expel its contents.
“Gross,” she complains before getting sick again.
Instinctively, I place my palm on her back, comforting her as much as I think she’ll allow, all the while holding my breath and praying for it to end.
“Just leave me alone,” she sputters.
I almost give in, the threat of getting sick right along with her becoming all too real, but the pain in her voice settles the active volcano threatening to erupt in my stomach.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” I assure her even as I eye the door reluctantly. I mean the words with one hundred percent truth, but other than her, she’s found my only weakness.
I’m such a pussy when it comes to this shit.
“Baby?” she huffs. “Don’t fucking call me baby. It’s empty, a completely fucking useless term of endearment.”
“It’s not empty,” I mutter.
How could it be? I don’t call anyone else baby. TJ may use it because he can’t ever remember the woman’s name he’s fucking, but I didn’t utter the word until the first time I said it to her. She wouldn’t know that though. I’ve closed myself off and refused to share anything emotional with her other than the look in my eyes when I’m deep inside of her.
“As you can see, I’m in no position to fuck you tonight. You might want to set your sights elsewhere.” She wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand as she shifts back on her heels. “It won’t be happening with me.”