Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“You could have found me yourself, ass.” She glares at her brother as he rummages through his dresser for a shirt. “I was in the middle of cleaning house at the card table before you summoned me.” She waves an irritated hand in his direction when he continues to ignore her. “I’m not a dog who comes when you whistle.” I snort, and her attention turns to me. Her nose scrunches as she drags her gaze over my outfit. “I hope that’s not what you’re wearing to the party.”
Callan walks over to the bedroom door, slams it shut, and pulls a shirt over his head. “Dad’s awake,” he says once she’s finally taken a breath. He squeezes her shoulder. Tears well in her eyes, and he nods.
“Is he okay?”
“I don’t know much. We need to get over there. You good to go now?”
She swallows, her head bobbing up and down, a hand raking through her green wig. “Yes,” she rushes out, her breath hitching. “Yes. Okay, let’s go.” She swipes at her eyes before patting down the pockets of her bright pink fur jacket. Pulling out her cell phone, she flits her fingers over the screen. A second later, it chirps with an incoming message.
“Who are you texting?” Callan asks, tugging on a pair of boots.
“No one. Chill.” She rolls her eyes and slips her phone away before moving toward the door, only looking back when Callan doesn’t follow. “Are you coming or what?”
Narrowing his eyes on her, Callan grabs his cut and pushes his arms through it. He then turns away from her, approaching the bed where I’m sitting.
“Come on.” He holds his hand out for me. Nerves dance in my stomach.
I hesitate, and Kitty steps toward her brother. “Shouldn’t it be just the two of us for now?”
“Rogue’s coming,” he states, matter of fact.
“But—”
“Kit”—he glares at her over his shoulder, authority emanating from the rigidness of his spine and shoulders—“she’s coming.”
I slip my hand into his, choking back the dread threatening to consume me, and follow his lead. He passes Kitty, leaving her to trail behind as he guides us out of the room and through the clubhouse, nearly mowing Cutter over when he steps out of his bedroom and into our path.
“Whoa! Where the hell are you going in such a rush?” He frowns, looking between us.
“Out,” Callan grunts, moving around him.
“Hold up. You need company?” he asks before we can retreat.
Callan holds up our conjoined hands. “I have it.”
“Good to have you back.” Cutter jerks his chin at me then jabs a thumb in the opposite direction. “There’s a party being thrown in your honor.”
Before I can form a response, Kitty interjects. “What am I, chopped liver?” She crosses her arms, jutting out a leather-clad hip. Her pants look like they were painted onto her skin. I don’t miss the way Cutter does a full sweep of her body as he turns his attention to her.
“You going with them?” he asks.
She looks to her brother and shrugs. “My master called; I must follow.”
Cutter licks his lips and raises a brow. “I don’t know whether to be turned on or weirded out.”
“I’m her brother, asshole,” Callan warns.
“Hence the weirded-out part.”
“We don’t have time for this.” Callan tsks, turning and continuing our departure.
“Well, where the hell are you going?” Cutter’s voice trails behind us.
“Nowhere that concerns you.” I hear the smile in Kitty’s voice as she trots up behind us.
As we reach the far end of the club, the distinct sound of skin slapping skin blends with carnal moans. Rounding the small curve in the hall, Callan groans. “A hundred rooms in this place and they fuck in the hallway.” Green is balls deep inside one of the blonde triplets, her hands splayed against the wall with her skirt hiked around her waist and his bare ass pumping like a jackhammer behind her. Green doesn’t slow his pace even as we pass, and Kitty smacks his ass.
“Good form.” She claps her hands and walks backward to keep watching. A smile tilts my lips. We enter a garage, and my mouth gapes open.
“Is there anything this place doesn’t have?” I ask as we stroll past rows of motorcycles.
“A pool.” Kitty purses her lips at her brother.
“We’re not getting a damn pool,” he grumbles.
“A pool would be cool,” I defend, biting my lip when Callan cuts me with a death glare.
Kitty raises her arms. “Told you.”
“How many brothers do you think we’d find floating face down in a pool if we had one?” Callan snaps.
“Or fucking in it.” I shudder. “Those horny bastards would have pool orgies.”
“I still don’t see an issue with it.” Kitty smirks.
Wind howls against the metal shutter spanning the entire back wall as Callan slows, heading toward a row with three black SUVs.
“We can take my car,” Kitty says.