Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
He hadn’t seen her completely naked the other night, he only got to see her ass and the back of her thighs. This morning he wanted to see all of her. Every fucking inch.
But before he could thumb the button of her jeans free from its hole, a pounding on the door made him freeze. Stella stiffened, too.
He was going to kill whoever the fuck it was.
He needed to remember that this property would be no longer his own and people would be in and out on a regular basis as well as living on site. Having sex in the kitchen in view of the door probably wasn’t a good idea unless he wanted a possible audience.
He did not.
And he was pretty sure Stella didn’t, either.
He straightened as she held her discarded tank and bra in front of her tits.
With a flushed face, she focused on the door behind him.
He closed his eyes, reined in his fury at being interrupted and turned, but tossed over his shoulder, “Put on the tank, leave off the bra. We’re not done.”
He gave her a few seconds to do just that as he also stared at the large figure on the other side of the door. He was pretty sure his body was blocking the man’s view of Stella until she got herself covered.
Then he strode to the door and yanked it open, ready to rip someone a new asshole.
He rethought that really quick-like when he saw who it was.
He’d been in plenty of fights, and he’d kicked a lot of asses, but he knew his limits.
The club’s new enforcer was one of them.
Plus, it wouldn’t be smart causing bad blood from the get-go when things were just starting to come together.
So, to cool his boiling blood, he sucked a deep breath in through his nose, counted to five and released it. A habit he’d gotten into when trying to control his temper, so his six years inside didn’t turn into life without fucking parole.
“Brother,” he greeted, glad his voice didn’t shake with his dissipating anger.
Judge jerked his chin up in response. “Deacon’s here with his shit.” His green eyes slid past Trip to where Stella was and stuck there. One brow lifted slowly as he looked at Trip for a second before his gaze returned to a quiet Stella. “Hey, Stella.”
“Hey, Judge.” She sounded a bit breathy, which made him bristle, but when she cleared her throat and asked, “Where are the babies?” it was back to normal.
Judge’s expression didn’t change much but enough so Trip knew the man hadn’t missed the change in her voice, either. “In the truck.”
“Give them a scratch for me.”
“Will let ‘em out when we get down to the barn if you wanna give ‘em one yourself. Just stopped in on the way to give Trip a head’s up we’re here.”
Trip was pretty fucking certain that Stella wasn’t going to head down to the barn to give the fucking dogs a scratch.
The only scratches she was going to dole out would be on his back. And he needed Judge to get lost for that to happen. “He can have whatever room he wants.”
“Thinkin’ he wants one of the apartments.”
“Thought you wanted one of ‘em.”
“Yeah, but he wants the other one before it’s claimed.”
“Savin’ the one for—”
“Sig,” Judge finished for him.
“Sig?” he heard behind him.
Judge’s eyes again landed on Stella behind him. “Had the same reaction.” They came back to Trip. “Savin’ an apartment for someone who might not even fuckin’ show up.”
“He’ll show.”
“Got a lot of fuckin’ confidence, brother.”
“He’ll show,” Trip repeated, hoping he was right.
“If he don’t land behind bars again. He’s like a fuckin’ boomerang when it comes to prison.”
“That’s a good reason for him to come home.”
Judge shook his head. “You didn’t see his sheet.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. Was only one piece of the puzzle Deke used to find him.” Judge leaned in closer and lowered his normally booming voice. “Your agg assault with a deadly weapon’s child’s play for him.”
Fuck. Trip needed to tell Stella about the charge he caught and why he did time, but he wanted to be the one to tell her. Not Judge.
“Want a copy of it along with Rook’s.”
Judge nodded. “When you goin’ to see ‘im?”
“When I get a chance but before he gets sprung, in case he thinks about not comin’ straight home.”
“Yeah, smart. He’s another one who gets pinched just by crossin’ the fuckin’ street.” Judge wasn’t joking.
“If I know their weaknesses, we might be able to keep them out.”
“What about your own?”
He locked gazes with Judge. “Got it under control.”
“Yeah, you opened that door ready to tear me a new asshole. Just a warnin’, I already like the one I have, so I’ll do what I gotta do to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“This club needs to be solid, Judge. Fighting amongst ourselves will burn it to the ground again. Not gonna let that happen.”