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)
"I, uh.” I cleared my throat. “Where should I..." I gestured vaguely, heat flooding my cheeks.
Jack's expression softened slightly, though his eyes remained alert. "Bathroom's through there." He nodded toward a door I hadn't noticed before. "Take your time. I need to check on my boys anyway."
Relief washed over me. "Thank you."
I hurried toward the bathroom, but his voice stopped me at the threshold.
"Honey." I turned back, finding those glacial blue eyes locked on mine. "When I come back, we need to have a talk about where you go from here." He scrubbed a hand over his face. “For now you're under my protection. My old lady, as far as anyone outside this room is concerned."
"Old lady? You mean like your girlfriend?"
Jack's mouth quirked up at one corner in what might have been amusement. "Wife, girlfriend, old lady. Doesn't matter what you call it. In this world, you're mine. Means no one touches you without answering to me."
My gaze darted to the door, an instinctive search for escape. The hallway beyond suddenly seemed like freedom, if only I could reach it. But as if reading my thoughts, Jack shifted his position slightly, blocking my path without a word. Not threatening me, exactly, but making it clear I wasn't going anywhere.
"This is crazy," I said, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. "You don't even know me. I don't know you. We can't pretend to be together because of some MC rule."
"Not pretend," he corrected. "As far as everyone's concerned, it's real. Including you."
"And if I refuse?" I had no idea where this bravado was coming from, but I couldn’t seem to keep my mouth shut.
His expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "You won't."
Those two words carried such quiet certainty that my protest died in my throat. He didn’t issue a threat, not exactly. More like a statement of fact as undeniable as gravity.
He leaned his massive frame against the wall, crossing those muscled arms over his chest. The movement pulled his shirt tight across those broad shoulders, highlighting the well defined muscles beneath. Despite everything, I couldn't help noticing how the fabric clung to him, how the veins in his forearms and bicep stood out, how the tattoos that covered his skin disappeared beneath his sleeves only to emerge again at his collar.
"I need to see what damage has been done to the club and grounds," he said, his tone shifting to something dangerous beyond anything he’s shown me so far. I could almost pity anyone involved in this attack. Almost. "Callin’ church with my club."
"Church?" I have no idea why I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. It’s not like I needed to know any of this stuff.
"Meeting. Patched members only." He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I'll be back. Bed’s yours. I’ll take the couch. If you don't wanna wait up, get some sleep. I’ll be a while."
There was no innuendo in anything he said, but the images flashing unbidden in my mind made me blush. I was supposed to sleep in this man’s bed. Whether or not he was in there with me didn’t make it less intimate. Or make my mind wander any less. What would it be like to have his large body hovering over mine, those calloused hands against my skin, his mouth... I forced the thoughts away. I had no business even entertaining dirty thoughts about this man because there was every possibility they could get me killed.
"And if I want to leave?" I managed to ask.
"You don't." Again, not a threat. A statement.
Before I could argue, he moved to the door, unlocking it with a twist of his wrist. He paused in the doorway, looking back at me over his shoulder. "Lock this behind me. Don't open it for anyone. I have a key so there’s no reason for you to open this door.” Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.
I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the space he'd occupied. Then, on shaking legs, I moved to the door and turned the lock, hearing it engage with a heavy thunk. The sound had a terrible finality to it, like the closing of a prison door.
Alone in Bloody Jack Mason’s room, I pressed my forehead against the cool surface of the door and tried to steady my breathing. What had I gotten myself into? Less than an hour ago, I'd been a normal girl stepping outside my comfort zone for a night of adventure. Now I was... what? Property? An "old lady" to a man whose nickname was "Bloody" Jack?
The distant rumble of motorcycle engines filtered through the walls, punctuated by the deep voices of men in heated discussion. Didn’t take a genius to figure out pissed didn’t quite cover the mood here. Deciding what to do about the attack. Deciding what to do about me.