Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Minutes tick by as I eye the device, hesitating, before I finally snatch it off the table.
Unknown: How's my favourite pussy this morning?
A smile spreads across my face. It must be Hella, since he made me share my number with him for, you know... protection.
My thighs squeeze together as I envision those piercing blue eyes locked on mine. The way his jaw muscles twitch when something sets him off. That cocky smirk right before he says something that pisses me off.
My pulse hammers against my throat.
He's not just bad; he's so much worse.
Chase? I thought I scared you off with my vivid description of how fucking wet I was for you last night…
My grin feels lethal as it spreads over my face. “Ha! Now who's funny?”
Minutes crawl by. I'm setting my phone back on the table when another ding stops me cold. An MMS loads, and my stomach flips. Chewing my lip, I brace myself for whatever he's about to unleash.
The image opens, and I nearly choke on my granola as Jada strolls through the kitchen.
“Morning!” She bounces in with too much energy for this early in the morning.
I shove my phone deep into my pocket, but the damage is done. The image burns behind my eyelids. Those tattooed abs contracting, his hands wrapped around himself, that glistening drop poised at his tip. The caption
This look like Chase to you?
Might as well be seared into my retinas.
My stomach tightens as I picture my lips closing over him, tasting that slick bead at his tip before sliding down, his thickness filling my mouth until my throat aches with the strain.
My eyes flutter shut, a moan threatening to spill from my lips.
“Melissa?” Jada's voice cuts through my haze. She’s been talking this entire time, and I've been drowning in my cock-induced fantasy, completely ignoring her.
“Sorry, what?” I ask, grabbing my bowl and heading for the sink like nothing happened.
Her eyes narrow. “What's going on with you and Hella?”
Nervous laughter spills out as I wave her off. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
She walks to the table, patting the chair beside her. “Look. No bullshit?” Her eyebrows lift expectantly.
I pour some coffee into a mug and walk back to the table, my fingers wrapping around the warm ceramic like a lifeline as I settle into the chair. “No bullshit.”
“Hella is a really good guy now. Don't get me wrong…”
I pause mid-sip, the cup hovering at my lips. “Now?” Steam rises from the coffee, kissing the tip of my nose as I blow across the surface. “I mean, I don't think I ever considered Hella a good man, but you say now like he used to be worse. Didn't think that'd be possible.”
She snorts. “Oh, it's possible. I'll get to why in a second, but before I tell you this story, I want you to understand that although some of his tendencies are still there, under it all, he's a good man to those he cares about, and that's about a handful of people, not including his brothers.”
I lower my coffee. She’s got my attention.
A sly smile curves across her lips. “I'm going to tell you so that you can see how he is with you, to how he was back then, and then maybe you'll know a little about his darkness.”
My gaze drifts to the window, tracing the patterns of morning light on the glass before finding her eyes again. “Do we need rum?”
Her laugh cracks through the kitchen as she pushes away from the table. The cabinet hinges bitch when she stretches up to the top shelf, grabbing the bottle and two glasses like muscle memory. Rum glugs out in heavy pulses, amber catching the shitty overhead light. Liquid sin.
She slides my glass across the table, the sound sharp against wood, then fills her own. Rum disappears down her throat in one swallow, before she sets the empty glass down with a soft clink. “Okay, where do I begin…”
“Maybe at the start?” I suggest because I’m helpful like that.
She snorts. “The start is fucked. Let’s go with the part where I met your favourite asshole.”
My spine tightens at the words your favourite like she’s poking a bruise I didn’t admit I had.
She leans back, eyes going somewhere behind me. “You ever heard of Vanguard?”
“No.” The word feels small. Wrong. “Sounds like a gaming clan.”
“Yeah, nah.” Her mouth twists. “Government-funded base in the mountains down south. Real pretty from far away, real fucked up on the inside. Run by a guy named Kurr. Chief Tactical Officer. He likes rules more than he likes oxygen.”
I want to joke, to cut the rope she’s tying around my throat, but her tone has my body going still. She rattles off, like she can see the list.
“Subject will not disclose experiences from detention. Subject will not attempt escape. Subject will engage in intimate contact only with approved targets.”