Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“You’re bleeding,” Eli states.
“What?” I’m startled as he grabs my hand and stares at the small cuts on my palm. Fuck, I hadn’t even noticed.
“Fucking hell. Hey.” I wave at the bartender with my good hand. “Can I get another one of those cloths?”
Eli grabs hold of my wrist, assessing the wounds in the dim light. I’m startled by his firm grip, yet his eyebrows furrow as if concerned by the damage.
“Look what you went and did.” He drops my hand and reaches over the bar for a napkin before he lifts my hand again.
“Does this mean I can go home early? Since I’m wounded and all?” I ask innocently.
“No, you’ll stay for at least an hour. And moving forward, the only one to hurt you will be me.”
I look at him, once again dumbstruck. “Wow. So romantic.”
“Do you want romance, Kitten?”
My face naturally twists of its own accord. “Keep that shit to your blonde-haired girlfriend; she seems like the type to enjoy it.”
“I don’t do girlfriends,” he states. “Now, you’re coming upstairs with me so we can fix this.”
I lean in, my boots giving me some height as I stand on my tippy-toes to reach his ear. “I’ll give you a heads-up. I don’t respond well to being told what to do.”
His mouth grazes my ear, and I can’t help but momentarily sink into the undeniable intoxication that this asshole radiates.
“I know you want to be forced into submission, sweetheart, so your sharp little tongue can wag all it wants. I’ll cut it out if I have to. And then I’ll shove my cock so deeply down your throat, you won’t know if you’re choking to death on my cock or your own blood.”
A shudder runs down my spine. The threat and the visual it conjures is terrifying, and yet there’s a warmth that floods to my core.
I pull back and grin at him, really appreciating the lines on his face. “You’re so beautiful.” I slowly lift my good hand as I press one fine-tipped nail to his forehead. “And you’ll be prettier with a bullet between these brows.”
The fucker has the audacity to actually laugh.
It’s as equally unhinged as it is beautiful.
CHAPTER 11
Eli
Most women would run for the hills or, at the very least, flinch at my provocation. Not this woman, though. She’s currently sulking in my private booth, stabbing at her drink with a straw as if it’s personally offended her.
I plucked out the two slivers of glass embedded in her palm and thoroughly bandaged it. Other than a few shallow cuts, her hand was fine. She’d even had the effrontery to say “it was nothing” under her breath more than once.
But it was everything. No one has permission to make this woman bleed but me.
She throws her hand up, exasperated. “Can you stop looking at me like a creeper and tell me why the fuck I’m here?”
“Are you going to share with me who your client is yet?”
She throws herself back into the leather seat, arms folded over her chest. She hasn’t had one sip of the drink one of my men brought her. She crosses her legs, and a tic jumps in my jaw as I see a flash of red panties.
Jesus Christ, I’m falling from grace if the mere glimpse of underwear can get me off these days. I adjust my crotch.
“Sit here,” I tell her, not liking the way a few of the club members have a clear view of us. I could tell them to leave so we have this space to ourselves, but I’m not accommodating her, and besides, Lord knows what I’ll fucking do to her if left alone. I’m still not sure if I want to kill or fuck her. Both, I think.
“No,” she replies, looking over her shoulder at the others.
“Look at me,” I growl as I take a puff of my cigar and spread my legs wide. Her gaze doesn’t miss the adjustment, and I quite like that. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she’s just as drawn to me as I am to her.
Hawke’s booming laugh echoes over the space as he entertains two blondes, one on each knee. Dutton is here somewhere, and it’s not often Ford doesn’t follow his twin, but he’s nowhere to be seen tonight.
She looks at her phone as if to check the time. Frustrated by her ignoring me, I stand, looming over her, and circle around the booth. I sit on the wooden table and put my glass of whiskey and cigar down beside me. I push my legs between hers and splay them out, giving me a perfect view of those red lace panties.
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch, and her gaze is unmoving. “I’m not going to kill you tonight,” I tell her.
“That’s nice to hear. Can’t promise you the same thing,” she replies bitterly. My smile is slow and sensual.