Ignite (The Disciples #4) Read Online Cassandra Robbins

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Disciples Series by Cassandra Robbins
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
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Instead I left.

Because I’m Axel, and Axel doesn’t have these types of feelings. The road was supposed to make me remember that.

It didn’t.

If anything, I might be in worse shape than when I left. Because everything I used to crave on the road was back in my room with blond hair and a beauty mark that makes me want to lick it.

I don’t want any other mouth. Her candy-flavored lips are all I need, along with her cunt, which tastes like honey.

“Fuck.” I look over at the fluorescent lights as I say the truth and shake my head.

“I’m obsessed, Rip.”

He nods. “No shit. You’re finally seeing the light.” He laughs but it’s strained, almost as if he feels sorry for me on more than one level.

“You should have said something earlier,” I grumble as I rub the back of my neck and let my lungs fill with smoke and nicotine.

“What was I gonna say… I knew she was gonna be your downfall the first moment you saw her shake her ass to Flashdance?”

“Fuck you. You said she was gonna be yours,” I say through gritted teeth, getting pissed at the memory of that day.

The day that changed it all.

He smirks and looks down at his phone. “Nah, I knew she was all yours.”

I’m about to argue, but I do have to get on the road, and who knows how long it’s gonna take for me to eat shit to Jewel.

“I’ve got to go meet Bullseye. Don’t worry. I’ll make it right with Bambi.” I grab the keys to my bike and sunglasses and bang out the steel doors.

Jewel leans against the concrete warehouse, smoking and looking lost. Great. I’ve had my fill of drama already, but I do owe her more than that. We’ve been fuck buddies for years. I call her my little hippie chick since she loves all things to do with the sixties and seventies.

Like right now, she looks like a cross between Stevie Nicks with the flowers in her hair and gypsy clothes and John Lennon with the glasses.

I have no idea if this fucking obsession with Antoinette is gonna last, but I do know I’m not sleeping with Jewel, and I need her to understand that it’s me, not her.

Flicking my cigarette on the asphalt, I gaze up at the sky. It’s getting dark. As she starts to cry, I smile at her, grab her, and kiss the top of her head.

“Ah Jewel, I’m sorry. I’m an ass.”

She clings to me. I’m almost startled at how different she feels in my arms. Her smell is wrong; her skin is missing Antoinette’s softness. Her eyes are brown when all I want to see is violet blue.

“I just want to make you happy, Axel. I don’t understand what’s happened this time. You didn’t even fuck me.”

Her hands roam and for a split second, I’m torn. It would be easy to fuck her. It’s what she wants. Make her happy and ride out of town. She rubs my cock through my jeans. I look down at her and grab her hands.

“Please, Axel.” She sniffs, and instead of smelling vanilla and citrus, I smell patchouli. But that’s not what makes me pull away. It’s that I don’t want her. I could fuck her because I feel sorry for her, but I have way too much respect for either one of us to do that.

“We’re a great team, and you’re my friend. I respect you and want to keep it that way.”

She goes to open her mouth. I know she’s gonna beg so I stop her. “No, Jewel. You need to hear me. This is me not you.”

She blinks then frowns, confusion all over her face. “Did you meet someone? I don’t understand.”

And I’m done. I’m late and this is going nowhere.

“Go inside and let Rip teach you the security system.” I kiss her forehead and turn toward my bike.

One more night. I close my eyes. One more night, and I’ll be back to my obsession and my downfall.

ANTOINETTE

I hate him. And every day that he stays gone and doesn’t call, I hate him more. He left me. Without even a backward glance. Went out the door and there’s been no word for eight days.

Eight days.

I’m living in a clubhouse surrounded by bikers. Thank goodness for Amy—otherwise I’d be the only woman in the place. Well, there are plenty of women at the clubhouse, but none who live there.

I twirl my finger around a soft strand of hair that Doug cut earlier, which is how all of us ended up at Blade and Eve’s house.

Eve and Cindy dragged Charlie and me out to get our hair cut. Apparently they do this a lot with Charlie. Otherwise, she forgets.

God, not even a phone call? My mind drifts back to him rather than to the smell of the pizza that arrived a few minutes ago. Blade brought it in, kissed Eve, and took a box outside to his amazing patio. I guess that’s his man cave since he seems to be watching a bunch of TVs bolted to the wall.


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