Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“I’m not easy to get along with.” I reminded him, that fucked up, dark part of me still trying to push him away.
He shrugged. “Neither am I, my girl.”
I shook my head at him. “You’ll give up,” I told him.
He arched an eyebrow at me. “Jessie, I deal with your fuckard of a brother all fucking day.” My lips tilted up into a smile and so did his. “I’m sure I can deal with you.”
“You’ll walk. Mark my words,” I told him. “There’s no way you could want someone that looks like me. You’ll get bored of the pretense.”
He grabbed my hand and placed it over the crotch of his pants. My eyes widened, my lips parting in a shocked ‘O’. His cock was hard as a rock under my hand. His eyes narrowed on my face. “Does this fucking feel like I’ll ever get tired of looking at you, baby?” he asked me, his voice raspy. “It’s taking everything in me right now not to bend you over the side of this tub and bury myself in you, show you what being fucked by a real man is truly like.”
I swallowed thickly. He leaned down and kissed me. “No more hiding, Jessie. And trust me, if I’d known you were hiding this from me all that time ago, I would have put my foot down with you a hell of a lot sooner.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he placed his index finger over my lips, shutting me up. “No. Not another word, Jessie. I’m in this with you for the long haul. Fight me on this all you want, but I’m pushing back, and I don’t give a fuck if I have to back you into a corner. I’m not standing by any longer and watching you do this shit to yourself, not when you’re suffering this fucking bad.”
He stood up, pulling me up with him before he released me and stripped out of his boots and clothes, standing naked in front of me in all of his tattooed, muscular glory. Ink was huge—every part of him perfectly-defined muscle. Heat spread on my cheeks when I saw how hard he was for me.
Oh, boy.
“Not right now,” he told me. He turned my back to face him. I shuddered, squeezing my eyes shut, but his hands slid down my mangled back, pressing soft kisses to the raised scars there. It took everything in me not to burst into tears again. “Right now, I’m taking care of you.”
2
Ink
I’d joined the Sons of Hell as a seventeen-year-old kid. I had no home. My mother was a junkie. My dad walked out when I was little. I was just a scrawny teen that didn’t know anything better. At seventeen, I had been in and out of juvie, done almost every single drug there was to do. My rap sheet was already long as fuck.
Joey had seen me sleeping on a bench in the park, and all he said was to follow him.
I had nothing to lose, so I did.
He brought me here, and he handed me a prospect cut—asked me if I knew what that meant. And when I’d told him no, he’d explained it to me.
Almost eleven years later, and I was Joey’s VP, his best friend, and the man he trusted the most.
And I was madly in love with his sister.
Jessie gave me a run for my fucking money. She was a woman hell-bent on staying stuck in her suffering. I didn’t know how many times I had tried pulling her out of it, but until now, I had no idea the extent of her depression—of her suffering.
She was covered in scars. Her fucking back was nothing but raised scars, and it looked like she’d been beaten with a fucking horsewhip. She had never let me sleep with her, and I respected that. I respected and loved this woman so goddamn much that I hadn’t had sex in fucking years because for me, there was no one else but her.
I’d never seen her cry unless something happened to her brother or to someone she cared about. It was almost as if the woman was made of steel.
Until tonight.
Until I walked into her bathroom and found her sobbing on the shower floor.
I lathered her loofa with her vanilla-scented body wash. The woman was a sucker for anything vanilla and brown sugar. And on her? It smelled fucking amazing. She used the perfect amount of it to always smell like a warm sugar cookie without overwhelming your senses.
And every fucking day, it took everything in me not to want to eat her like my favorite damn dessert.
“Ink.” Her voice trembled on my name as I began to gently run her loofa over her body, covering her with suds, my favorite fucking smell in the world beginning to fill her steaming bathroom.