Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
A small frown tugs at her brows, but she shakes it off quickly, studying my expression as I pull her hair over one shoulder.
“Time to go, Rich Girl. I got a curfew.”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “As if your parents could make you do a damn thing.”
“Good thing ain’t got none, then, huh?” A darkness washes over me, but I blink it away.
Rocklin eyes me but doesn’t ask, coming to me when I pull her hand.
“No, but for real, I’ve got shit to handle, so you gotta go, and I don’t want you coming out here like you did tonight.”
“You don’t make the rules.”
“I won’t always be able to show on a dime.” I ignore her. “You’re lucky I could this time.”
She puts space between us, scowling. “I told you I don’t know why I came.”
“Oh, I believe that.” I erase the distance she created and draw her chin between my fingers. I tilt her how I want her, and she lets me.
“Do what I said, Rich Girl,” I whisper, stretching my thumb so the tip of my nail scrapes along her lip, my other fingers meeting the skin of her jaw and neck. I test the skin there, and it’s as soft as I remember. Dragging my touch lower, my eyes leave the point of contact, seeking out hers once more. “Go home, but don’t worry. Way I see it, you came to me tonight, and I have every intention of rewarding you for it.”
“Reward me like I’m a dog?” Her question is bratty, but her tone gives her away.
It’s low and raspy and goes straight to my dick.
“Nah.” My smirk is slow. “Like a bad bitch.”
She shakes her head, but a soft chuckle pushes past her lips. She gives me a playful yet challenging glare. “I like shiny things.”
“I’ve got something shiny for you, but not tonight. Soon. Now … go.”
“Yes, daddy,” she sasses, taking backward steps, but I dart forward, loop my arm around her waist and yank her to me.
“Careful, ma …” I whisper against her lips, “I might like that.”
She smiles now, a big, real one, and damn.
I like it.
Like her.
What a fuckin dumbass you are, my man.
“You know I could get out of your hold, right? That if I didn’t want you to touch me, I would have already used the dagger in my waistband and stuck you in your eye?”
“You mean this dagger?” I grab the edge of my jacket, pulling it out, so she can see the shiny silver handle sticking higher than the inside pocket.
Her jaw drops and now I’m the one who chuckles.
“You’re not the only one with sticky fingers, Little Thief.” I swat her ass to get her moving and step away.
Slowly, she turns, not sparing me another glance as she slips inside her fancy ride and pulls away. I stare after her, knowing I should change my number, tell Donny behind the counter not to bother letting me know if she pulls up out here again.
Cut it and cut it quick.
A girl like that will leave you bleeding on the floor.
What I want to know is why she came tonight. What drove her to me? What problems is she running from?
And the most deranged of questions, what can a low-class, poor motherfucker like me do to fix it?
The likely answer?
Not a goddamn thing.
Chapter 10
Rocklin
Bastian is a liar. Sai is acting odd, and my sister is in worse shape than I thought.
Sai has become a constant presence, looming no less than twenty feet away—far enough so I can speak freely but close enough to stop any escape I might try to make, which is exactly how he’s acting: as if I might take off at any moment. My dad must have really laid into him.
Boston is weak, and while she’s always been on the feeble side mentally, it’s never affected her physically. It is now. Her stamina is lower, so she’s whining for more breaks between grappling and starting fights to avoid sparring. She falls to her ass after twenty minutes of wrestling in the steam room, and even her concentration is off—her shooting average has split in half. She’s sleeping through breakfast and staring into space more than she listens. I’ve been working with her for five days in a row now and it’s not getting any better.
And in those five days, not once has a liquid-eyed bad boy made his existence known.
I’ve been to The Enterprise twice and nothing. I’m annoyed, which only annoys me more.
What kind of girl twiddles her thumbs, waiting for a single-named stranger to break in and have their way with them, anyway?
The kind who appreciates a good dicking down, apparently.
Pathetic? Maybe.
I must be because I’ve even considered asking Dom to pop in, figuratively, of course, where I would then wait for him to touch me, all to see if my tattooed shadow shows up, but who’s to say he would?