Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
More muscle patrolled the room, armed and threatening, making it clear that anyone who caused trouble would be dealt with in a way that would most likely involve pain and screaming. When I walked in, each one who looked my way had a similar reaction to the guy at the door. They took in my cut with the kind of hesitation that said they weren’t sure if this was a warning shot from the club or I was just a biker who liked cards. Either way, they didn’t want to make the wrong call, so no one stopped me from taking an empty chair.
I played a few rounds at one of the main tables, quiet and steady. Winning one and losing two, keeping my demeanor blank. Calm. Non-threatening. As much as I could be, considering my already intimidating stature and being an Iron Rogue. I was just another guy playing cards on a Saturday night. The others at the table kept glancing at my cut, trying to figure out if I was up to something, but I didn’t give them anything.
Until Lindsay walked in.
My blood turned to ice and fire all at once. Son of a fucking bitch!
She wore my shirt under my spare cut, had her hair pulled up in a messy bun, and walked with her chin high. She looked every bit the confident woman who belonged to a ruthless biker. Every man in the room noticed her the second she stepped through the door, and my fingers itched to reach for my gun. I hated that any of these sleazy fuckers were looking at her, probably picturing my woman naked. But I somehow forced myself to remain composed.
What the fuck was she doing here?
Lindsay moved with a cool grace, like someone who knew she belonged anywhere she was. There was also that sweet sass in her step as she walked straight toward me, stopping at my side and pressing a kiss to my jaw like we hadn’t just argued over this exact scenario. Clearly, her ass wasn’t stinging enough from the last warning I’d given her.
“Hey,” she purred, her voice teasing. “Sorry I’m late.”
I stood and slid my hand around her wrist, tugging her flush against my chest. I let my fingers trail down her spine as I kissed her, making sure there was no mistaking who she belonged to. Then I bent to whisper in her ear. My voice was low and sharp as a blade when I hissed, “You won’t be able to sit for a week after the spanking I’m gonna give you—for disobeying. For scaring the hell out of me by putting yourself in danger. I’m gonna light that pretty ass up until you’re soaked and sobbing, and then I’m gonna fuck you so deep you’ll feel me every time you breathe.”
Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks flushed pink. But to her credit, she didn’t miss a beat. Just gave me a coy little smile and perched herself on the arm of my chair as though she hadn’t just signed her own death warrant.
I should’ve marched her out right then and there. But if I made a scene, we could blow up the whole plan. So I bit my tongue and sat back down.
With her subtle cues—nails tapping once, twice, then dragging on my shoulder—I started raking in the wins. Five hands in a row, cleaning out one guy. Then another. With each win, the dealer’s lips thinned. Eventually, I spotted two men near the exit, hands at their sides, whispering to each other while stealing glances at Lindsay.
Fuck.
They weren’t watching me.
They were watching her.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I couldn’t fucking believe I didn’t think about them recognizing her. My worry for her had distracted me, which was another reason I’d been so adamant that she stay away from the game.
One of the goons slipped away through a side door, and less than five minutes later, the other one came over to us. “Boss wants a word.”
I leaned back casually. “We done playing?”
He didn’t answer. Just nodded at two meatheads who were now approaching from behind him.
“She stays here,” I said, still mild but with a thread of steel in my tone.
The bigger one, with a scar down his cheek and a jaw like a bulldog, shook his head. “Both of you. Now.”
Lindsay tensed, but I gave her a quick squeeze at the waist as I stood. “Let’s go.”
We were led down a dark hallway and into a back office that looked more like a set from a mob movie than real life. The man behind the desk was huge, with dark beady eyes, a crooked nose, and a gold chain stretched tight over his thick neck. A pistol lay on the table in front of him, as though he wanted to make a point the loud way.