When He Reads to Me Read Online T.L. Smith

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, MC Tags Authors:
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
<<<<917181920212939>76
Advertisement


“Are you finally off the drug dealer’s wife?” Axe asks.

“He owes me.”

“And I’m sure she’s paid his debt to you by now.”

She has, but I’m not willing to tell that fucking sleazebag that. Cody will do as I fucking say.

“Why do you care?” Axe turns his gaze to Morris, who is currently kicking Aiden to wake him the fuck up.

“You like her,” Axe states. “You don’t like anyone. You fuck women, sure, but you never see them more than a few times. So why her, especially since she is married?”

“Do you think I care that she’s married? Do you think I care what any of you think about who I fuck or spend my time with?” I stand, and he shakes his head.

“Get him the fuck up.” I point to Aiden. “Do your job and stop worrying about who I invite into my fucking house.”

Axe nods.

And Morris grumbles something as Aiden wakes up, the finger still clutched in his hand.

“Clean this shit up,” I order as I stalk off.

Chapter 13

Lissie

“To get a job?”

Letti has been amazing. She’s made me feel welcome and not so much like a victim the way I’ve felt for the last few years. It’s nice to have someone check on you to see that you are okay. And the kicker? They want nothing in return.

That feeling is so unlike anything I’ve known.

“I think I need a job. I need to…” I let the words rush out so quickly my brain can’t finish the thought. “I can’t stay here and expect you to support me.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Lissie. You haven’t asked for anything; you cook, you clean. Hell, you can live here as long as you want. It saves me from doing everything.” She laughs. “But for real, I appreciate what you’ve been doing.”

How weird and funny is it that she appreciates me for cleaning and cooking for her? The first three days I was here, I stayed locked in her spare room, just lying there, wondering what I was going to do. I snuck out and stole some bread on the second day. On the third, she was waiting for me. She offered me food, and I sat with her in silence as we ate. She never pressured me to talk to her or to tell her what happened.

I told her on the fourth day.

That day, she came home with more food.

The day after that, I cooked and cleaned while she was out working.

“I’ve never really had anyone before, apart from Cody. So I’m not really sure what to say or do, but I want a job,” I tell her.

“Okay, let’s find you one. What experience do you have so we know where to look first?”

I sit back on the stool in her kitchen and stare at her. How do I tell her? My only job has been reading to the president of the motorcycle club, which I’m not sure she knows about. Actually, I’m not sure anyone knows that I read to him. They know that I work for him, but maybe they think I’m in there fucking him.

“Do you think I’m a whore?” I ask.

Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head. “Oh my God, no. Why would you say that?”

“You know I see Milo. What do you think I do for him?”

She bites her lip as her gaze darts around the room and then finally comes back to me. “To be honest, we never really asked. For the simple fact that it’s Milo.” She shrugs.

“Did you think I was sleeping with him?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re married.”

“Married people cheat on their spouses all the time,” I tell her.

“But not you,” she says, and I nod. “Look, we all know what an ass Cody is. Everyone knew he was lucky to have you…” She pauses. “I can ask the club about a job,” she offers. “Morris is my brother. I’m sure he’ll know if there’s something you could help out with.”

Just as she finishes, a knock comes on the door. I freeze as she stands. Without a second thought, she walks to the door and pulls it open. Morris stands there with a bag of groceries that he hands her, and then his gaze lands on me and narrows.

“What’s Prez’s pet doing in your kitchen?” he asks Letti.

“Pet?” I say, baffled.

“Yes, that’s what you are. His pet.”

I turn away from him.

Pet.

Is this what my life has come to, being a man’s pet?

“That’s a mean thing to say, Morris. Apologize. Now,” Letti scolds.

“She comes, they go into his room, they don’t fuck. And then she leaves. We all know she ain’t in his room cleaning.”

“How would you know that?” Letti asks, and a small piece of me feels better knowing she’s sticking up for me, even though she has no idea why I go and see him.


Advertisement

<<<<917181920212939>76

Advertisement