Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Em,” he said, and my name came ragged off his lips. “Em, baby. C’mon, Em. Now.”
His hips pressed me deep into the bed then, rotating with rough efficiency. The stimulation was so intense it hurt. But the hurt wasn’t a bad thing. Something about it, the way his eyes burned into mine, the way I couldn’t have fought him off if I tried … my utter helplessness.
Fuck.
I loved it.
I felt my back arch as his hips crushed mine, and then my world exploded and I screamed. It wasn’t a pretty, sexy scream, either. It was full of all the rage and anger and hurt and incredible fucking need I felt for him as it burst out of me.
Seconds later his body shuddered and he shouted, punching the mattress right next to my head. Then he collapsed on top of me, panting.
Unreal.
That’s when it all hit me and I started laughing.
I’d just had incredible, indescribable sex with the hottest guy I’d ever met—and I was still a fucking virgin.
Jesus. Just like high school.
I couldn’t give this shit away.
Chapter Four
HUNTER
I flopped down next to Em, trying to make my brain work again.
I’d come in my pants like a fucking kid.
Yeah. If the brothers saw this, they’d crucify me.
“You’re gonna kill me,” I muttered, reaching over to tuck a strand of her hair behind one of those perfect little ears. Her crystal-blue eyes looked up at me, dazed, and not entirely homicidal. Damn, I liked that way too much.
Damn, she was pretty. Smelled good, too.
“No, it’s Dad who’ll kill you,” she said quietly. Thoughtfully. Great, because thinking wasn’t going to make this any better on her end. “Liam—wait, what the hell is your name, anyway?”
“It’s Liam. Hunter is my road name.”
A shadow crossed her face.
“Are you really one of them?”
I didn’t pretend not to understand.
“Yeah, I’m a Devil’s Jack. Nomad. Been my job to keep tabs on you and your sister for a while. Among other things.”
“Why?” she asked, her face genuinely confused. “We’re not important.”
I laughed, wondering how she could be so impossibly naive.
“You’re pretty fuckin’ important, babe,” I told her. “That club loves you, even more than your sister because you stayed in Coeur d’Alene. Half the guys consider you their daughter and the other half want to bang you. All of ’em are scared of your dad. Still can’t quite figure out why he’s not national president. When Atlas retired last year, we figured he’d step up for sure.”
“He’s not interested,” she said absently. Then she leaned up on one arm, studying me. I kept my eyes on her face, because clearly she’d forgotten that corset thing was wide open and showing off her tits. Not my place to remind her … Fortunately, her puffy lips provided a nice distraction. I kept picturing them wrapped around my cock. “Tell me the truth, Liam. Was there ever anything real between us?”
I should tell her it was all real. Tell her it was love at first sight, that we were Romeo and Juliet and I’d defy my club to be her one and only.
But for once I was just fucking sick and tired of lying.
“I have no idea what’s between us,” I said, not even sure that was true. The first time I’d seen Em, it’d felt like a gut punch. I’d wanted to nail her on the spot. That hadn’t changed, but now that I had her laid out on a bed, for some reason making her feel better was more important than sticking my dick in her. Go figure.
“Not sure I know what real is,” I said. “But I don’t believe in love, babe. I believe in gettin’ laid.”
“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I shrugged, feeling almost philosophical about the situation. There’s a certain freedom in being totally screwed—and that was definitely what this was shaping up to be. Clusterfuck all around.
“Well, I do know I’ve got come all over my pants, and that’s not something that happens every day,” I told her. “You’re fucking hot, babe. No matter what other stories you tell yourself, don’t doubt it for a minute. I can’t remember the last time I blew like that. Not sure what it means, but that part’s sure as shit real.”
“Heh,” she said, then rolled onto her back and looked at the ceiling. “Am I gonna end up dead?”
I considered the question seriously, rolling it through my mind. I felt certain about one thing. I’d kill myself before I hurt her—well, hurt her physically. I was relatively sure I’d already done serious damage emotionally. But so long as I needed her making phone calls to Daddy, I couldn’t afford to let her feel safe. Those calls needed to motivate him, and that required fear.
Crap.
I didn’t like this feeling, I decided. I didn’t like feeling at all. Half the guys in the Jacks thought I was some kind of killing machine, and they were probably right. Give me a target, I’d neutralize it. But that usually involved guns or knives … or on one very memorable occasion a particularly sharp deer antler. Sometimes you just have to improvise. I tended not to talk to my victims much, let alone try to comfort them.