Tore Up (Mississippi Smoke #1) Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Forbidden, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mississippi Smoke Series by Abbi Glines
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Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
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Why was her face the one I had seen? It infuriated me. She was the reason my brother was dead, and she was pregnant with my nephew. Sex depravation had turned me into a sicko.

Twenty-Two

Halo

I had done my best to listen to Than as he introduced me to the horses. It had been slightly difficult with Bane’s thick, raspy voice in my head, telling the woman in the office what to do to his cock, then the way he’d sounded when he finally came. I’d found myself breathing harder, standing there, listening to them, while Than grinned like it was funny. When Bane walked out, buttoning his jeans, my throat went dry. His piercing stare when he looked at me had not helped.

“Bane’s truck is here,” Than said as he cut the engine to his Range Rover once we were parked in the garage. “If he is in a foul mood, just ignore it. He probably didn’t want any of us knowing he was giving it to Adalee,” he told me. “But if I can’t help myself and I break out and sing ‘Older Women Make Good Lovers,’ you might want to duck and run.”

I tried to decide if he was joking or not. Opening the door, I got out of the vehicle, then walked around the back of it. Than was reaching in the back to grab two large mason jars with a clear liquid inside that Ransom had dropped off in the office and told him to bring back here.

He closed the door of the car, then turned to me. “Braves play the Marlins tonight,” he explained.

I followed him to the door and opened it since he had his hands full.

“Do you like baseball?” he asked me.

Glancing up at him, I cocked my head to the side. “What do you think?”

A witty smile curled his lips. “It puts you to sleep.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Never watched it.”

“Ah! There is hope. You might love it,” he announced as he walked inside. “Remember, duck and run,” he added.

We walked until we got to the game room, and he set the bottles down.

“These need to be hidden from the crowd tonight. Only a few get some of this.” He motioned me on. “Let’s go eat.”

When we reached the great room, Bane was sitting on the sofa with a sandwich in his hand, watching the television. He lifted his eyes to briefly glance at us, then went back to what he had been doing.

“We’re gonna need to take her to the next big race so she can understand the reason why we have …” He glanced back at me. “What was it you called it? Five-star hotel rooms for stables?”

“I said luxury, but same thing,” I replied, not wanting to look in Bane’s direction. My cheeks felt hot because the sound of him getting off was now replaying in my head again.

“Might want to wait until Saylor has had time to adjust,” Bane replied stonily.

I tensed.

“I brought some Liquid Hale. It’s in the game room. Go have a shot or three,” he told Bane, then touched my arm and nodded his head for us to go.

Once we were in the kitchen, I asked, “Is Liquid Hale some other alcohol y’all make?” It was clear, and I knew whiskey wasn’t.

There was a devilish twinkle in his eyes when he looked at me. “Awbrey Carver’s moonshine recipe. He was my great-grandfather. My grandfather perfected it in the ’70s, and it was then called Liquid Hale since my grandfather’s name is Hale. We have a license to make whiskey, but there are guidelines you must follow. Liquid Hale doesn’t follow all those guidelines. The fact that it’s eighty proof is also frowned upon. So, it’s still made, but we don’t sell it. At least not to the general public. It’s our way to keep the bootlegging in the Carver family,” he explained. “It wouldn’t be the Carver way to be completely legal.”

“So, moonshine isn’t whiskey, or is it just illegal whiskey?” I asked, finding the distraction from Bane a relief.

Than leaned against the counter. “You saw those two bottles I brought in? They were clear.”

I nodded.

“Remember those oak barrels today that I told you we aged the whiskey in?”

“Yes.”

“Moonshine isn’t whiskey because it’s not aged in the oak barrels. It doesn’t take on the caramel color or flavoring. It also doesn’t take years and years to make a good bottle. It’s called moonshine because it was liquor that was made by the light of the moon so that the bootleggers, like my great-grandfather, didn’t get caught. It’s a clear high-proof liquor. The aging process of whiskey smooths the taste and takes the bite off. Moonshine burns like a bitch, but it’s a real good scorch.”

“Why are you giving a pregnant woman a lesson on moonshine?” Forge asked as he entered the kitchen.


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