Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“God, that was…” She runs her hands down my chest, stopping to run the pads of her thumbs over my nipple rings. Water's still pouring over us, slowly growing cool.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have much reason to trust me, but I swear I never get carried away enough to forget to suit up.” Fuck it was good, but I still feel like an asshole.
She looks up at me with a tiny, shy smirk. “I’m not sure I gave you much choice. I’m… Just so you know, I’m on the pill. Not that I’ve had much need for it until recently, but it helps with my cycle.” Her expression gets more serious. “I’ve never wanted to bring a kid into this world the way I was.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, meaning it in more ways than I’m ready to examine, and press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Me too.”
15
RORY
Someone knocks on the door while our stuff is drying in the shared laundry down the hall. All I'm wearing is one of Shrapnel's T-shirts. It's big enough that I can wear it for a dress, but with nothing underneath, I feel a little exposed, so I dash into the bedroom. With just him here, I don’t mind, but I'm not exactly ready for company.
“Who is it?” Shrapnel stalks over to the door in sweatpants, still bare-chested and barefoot. It's a good look for him.
“Open up.” It's Bull.
“Just you?”
“Just us,” Diesel yells through the door. “We're not gonna see anything we haven't.”
I slip back out into the living area, making sure the shirt hem is tucked a little in between my legs to preserve what little modesty I've got left. Their eyes go right to me, and neither looks overly shocked to see me like this.
“Looks like he’s taking good care of you,” Bull says with a laugh.
“When he should be answering his phone.” Diesel comes over to drop into the couch next to me. He pinches the hem of the shirt in his fingers and starts to lift.
“Hey!” I shoo his curious fingers away.
“Anything under that?”
“None of your business,” I say with a huff that earns me a laugh.
“Guess that's our answer.” Bull takes the chair across from me. Probably hoping he'll get a peek. “You know this is exactly the type of shit Prez was warning us about.”
“He should be used to it by now,” Shrapnel says with a shrug. He looks completely unapologetic. “Her clothes should be out of the dryer soon. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Unless her daddy rides in here with a shotgun.”
Bull shakes his head. “This is why you need to keep your phone on. Whittaker is ready to talk.”
“What has he said? Do I have to leave?”
It’s a good thing, I tell myself. Not for me exactly, but it’s my fault their friends are in trouble. If I could stay here forever and forget about everything happening outside the clubhouse, I would. It’s been so easy to distract myself from Hermes and my father’s plans, but that’s not reality.
“Eager to get back to your penthouse?” Diesel asks. He’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach his blue eyes.
“I—I don’t have one. No, really,” I insist when they look at me skeptically. “I live in a suite attached to my father’s apartment.”
Bull reaches out and pats my knee. “Poor baby.”
I stick out my tongue.
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t show it if you don’t want to use it.”
I stick it out again and blow a raspberry.
“You little brat!” Bull grabs me and throws me over his lap while the others watch, laughing. He pulls up the bottom of Shrapnel’s shirt and swats my butt. For a second, everyone is quiet and the mood starts to shift.
Diesel’s phone chirps. He groans. “It’s King. No time for fun. Whittaker is waiting for us to call.”
“Oh.” I climb off Bull’s lap and pull the shirt back in place. I’m not ready for it to happen this fast.
Shrapnel leaves to check the dryer.
“You’re a grown woman, you know. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” Diesel leans back on the couch, watching me like his eyes can give my shirt another lift.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Why not? Does he hurt you?” Diesel’s voice darkens, like he doesn’t give a shit how important my father is.
Bulls nods. “Say the word and we’ll tell him to fuck off. Prez would blow his fucking stack, but he’d back us.”
I don't doubt for a moment that they’re speaking the truth, but this is bigger than my feelings. “No, please. It’s not like that. I’m not his prisoner or anything. He’s just a very important person, and some of our projects are very time sensitive. He needs me back at work.”
“You’re his daughter. Do you really think he’s worried about you missing work more than if you’re safe?” Diesel asks.