Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 230(@200wpm)___ 184(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
I was so glad my rib hadn’t been broken because the bruising only slightly bothered me now. He didn’t need to hold back much, which worked for me because I wanted all of him.
I wrapped my legs around his waist while he thrust in and out of me. Over and over again until my inner walls were clenching hard around him.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he rasped. “Let me feel what it’s like with your pussy wrapped around my cock?”
I lifted up to meet his next thrust. “Uh-huh.”
“While I’m so fucking deep inside you, claiming what you saved for me.” He circled his hips, and I got even closer to coming. “Because you’re mine. My angel.”
“Yours, yes,” I agreed, mindless with need.
“Damn fucking straight,” he growled, wedging his arm between our sweat-slickened bodies to pinch my clit.
Stars burst behind my lids, and my inner walls clenched around his hard length, taking him over the edge with me.
By the time he finally broke away, I was sprawled against his sheets, skin damp and body humming with aftershocks. Watching the hard rise and fall of his chest, I finally admitted that I was exactly where I wanted to be. With Mason, no matter what came next.
10
AXLE
Jax looked like hell.
Not the fun kind—more like when you’ve been riding too hard, drinking too much, and letting a woman try to convince you she can drink you under the table.
This was caffeine and sleeplessness with a side of near madness. Pale, hollow-eyed pupils riding high like the man was seeing code in his dreams, and enough stubble to suggest he’d forgotten razors existed.
My office was similar to the other officers—concrete walls, sturdy carpet, a scarred desk that had seen more contracts than coasters, and a window that looked down over the small garage attached to the kitchen where brothers tuned their rides when they didn’t want to drag something up to The Pit. Where the walls had been bare a few months ago, someone had recently stuck a Redline Kings banner on one wall, and another had trophies and framed win photos. It wasn’t a stretch to assume it had been Kane’s wife, Savannah. She’d made a lot of subtle touches around the clubhouse, but we had no complaints about them. The place seemed homier without losing the edgy vibe.
Jax had three laptops open on my desk, three separate external drives plugged in, cables snaking everywhere. On the center screen, lines of text crawled, the kind of stuff that gave most people a headache and made Jax grin like Christmas. Deviant’s digital fingerprints were all over it as well. His kind of code was like a cocky signature scrawled in neon. They’d been working this thing layer by layer for over a week, tearing encryption apart like wolves stripping bone.
Ashlynn sat on the chairs across from him. One of her knees was hooked over the other, and hair fell over her shoulder in a loose, messy wave. Every time she shifted, it slid across the leather like silk. She was wearing my extra cut over a black tee that I’d bet money was mine too. Not that I minded, I loved seeing her in my clothes.
The vest dwarfed her a little, but she wore it like armor—chin up, eyes steady, mouth soft until she was about to argue.
She’d healed fast. Cage said the bruising on her ribs would fade in another week if she “didn’t do anything stupid.” She’d given him a sweet smile that fooled nobody, least of all me.
Kane took the corner by the window, arms folded, expression carved in a way that made most men find somewhere else to be. Edge was next to him with the easy lean of someone who could go from relaxed to lethal in the time it took to blink.
“Tell me you have something besides a migraine.” The past seven days had been a blur of hurry-up-and-wait, and my patience was down to threads. The only thing keeping me sane was spending most of that time buried inside Ashlynn.
“I’ve got a lot,” Jax said, pushing his glasses up with the back of his knuckle. “And I brought a friend.”
On cue, the third screen flickered to life, and a hard-faced man with dark hair and sharp eyes appeared. The video was feed crisp despite the secure tunnel we’d set up between the two networks. Deviant. The Iron Rogues’ tech genius. He sat in a room that looked like he lived inside a server rack.
Deviant tipped two fingers in a lazy salute. “Axle, Edge, Prez.” Then his eyes moved to Ashlynn, and he grinned slyly. “Don’t believe we’ve met. You’re—”
“Mine,” I grunted even though I knew he would never look at any woman other than his old lady.
Deviant’s smile grew, and he held up his hands. “Noted.”
“Alright,” Jax said, voice hoarse, “you’re gonna want to see this.”