Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Wren, my VP, Ghost’s ward and the hellion of the club, appeared beside the newcomer, her purple hair bright under the dim lights. She landed a gentle punch on the blonde's shoulder and laughed. "About fucking time you showed up, Honey." Wren's voice carried over the music. "Thought you'd chicken out."
Honey. OK, this must be Wren's friend from that coffee shop. She’d asked permission for Honey to attend the party and Ghost had agreed. The girl rubbed her arms, her smile nervous but genuine. "I almost did. Three times."
I'd heard Wren mention her, but seeing her in the flesh was something else entirely. Farm girl turned barista. Mother recently dead. Father not in the picture. Innocent as they come. Exactly the type that should run screaming from our world. I was going to have to have Ghost talk to Wren. This would be the last time little Honey got inside the compound.
Honey's gaze traveled around the room, taking in our MC insignia on the wall, the rough looking men throwing back shots, the women in various states of undress. I watched her swallow hard, her throat working in a way that made my cock tighten behind my jeans. When her eyes finally landed on me, the room seemed to narrow to just the two of us.
She wasn’t far away, maybe three arm lengths. Two good strides and I could have her in my arms. Those eyes… Christ! They were actually the color of honey, warm amber flecked with gold. They widened when they met mine, her lips still parted. I felt the impact like a punch to the gut.
I'd had plenty of women over the years. Quick fucks in the back room. Convenient arrangements with club girls who knew the score. But not one of them had ever looked at me the way this one did, like she was seeing something that both terrified and fascinated her in equal measure. She didn’t look at me with greedy eyes like every other woman in my life had. This girl wasn’t interested in landing the president of Bound in Blood MC.
Kneecap slid another coffee in front of me, breaking the moment. "That Wren's friend? The one she's been trying to drag in here for months?"
I grunted, not taking my eyes off her. "Yeah."
"She's out of her depth."
"No fuckin’ shit." I took another sip of coffee, feeling the burn in my gut less than the look in her eyes had.
Across the room, Wren was dragging Honey toward the makeshift dance floor, but the blonde's gaze kept darting back in my direction, like she sensed a predator and was reluctant to shift her attention away from me. Each time our eyes connected, something electric passed between us. My irritation at the party, at the looming threat from the Copperheads, at the whole fucking world, began to shift into something else. Something hungry and possessive. And not at all fucking welcome. Watching her move awkwardly to the music, her body stiff with nerves, I couldn't help but imagine how she'd move under me, how that sweetness would taste on my tongue. Yeah. I could get her to loosen up.
Mine.
The thought came unbidden, primal and absolute. I didn't know her, hadn't even spoken a word to her, but something in my gut, the same instinct that had kept me alive all these years, told me she was meant to be mine.
The party raged on around us, but I stayed rooted to my spot at the bar, watching her like the predator I was. Only I didn't want to devour her. Well, not in the way that would destroy her. I wanted to consume her, yes, but also keep her. Protect her.
When she looked at me again, I didn't bother hiding my interest. I let my gaze travel deliberately over her body before meeting her eyes again. The blush that spread across her cheeks was like fire catching on dry kindling, and I felt an answering heat surge through my veins straight to my cock.
The timing could be a lot fucking better. I didn’t need this distraction but I wasn’t sure I could resist her. At least, not tonight. Assuming things didn’t go all to shit in the next twenty-four hours, I could get her in my bed tonight, let her sleep tomorrow while I set things in motion to take the head of the Copperheads. After that, I’d see how long I intended to keep her.
The heavy front door exploded inward with a crash that cut through the music like a knife. The glass from a nearby window shattered, women screamed, and the distinctive copper studded leather of the Copperhead MC flooded into my clubhouse. I was on my feet before the first piece of splintered door hit the ground, body coiled tight as I caught the eye of my VP across the room. The men were already charging the intruders, but I wanted my VP on the same page.