Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 222(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
She felt like her cheeks were on fire.
“You know your life is in danger, don’t you?” Tank said.
“I know.”
“Is that why you joined?”
Brute had told her that a couple of the brothers had doubts about her. They didn’t want a Golubev in the club. Faith didn’t believe herself to be a Golubev. She was a Dawson. Her mother raised her as a Dawson, but she had never craved her father’s affection or attention. She used to love her grandfather, but that was the funny thing about being hit and beaten—that kind of love had a way of turning to hate very fucking quickly.
Faith hated her grandfather. She hated everything to do with Golubev and told him as such.
Tank looked at her.
“You can believe me or not. I know it’s hard for you all to believe, but at one time, you were all part of the Golubev. You all have your own story and now I have mine.” She shrugged. “I won’t betray the club and I know my life now has limits. There’s nothing I can do about that.”
There was a long pause and she went back to the washing.
“We’ll protect you, Faith,” Tank said. “All the brothers will.”
She didn’t get a chance to ask him what that meant as he turned on his heel and walked away. She was tempted to call him back, to understand what he meant, but Tank unnerved her.
“Tank hasn’t been the same since he came back.”
She gasped as Brute was suddenly on the opposite side of the laundry line.
“Brute, you scared me.”
He winked at her. “What are you doing?”
“It would seem you and your boys have a penchant for clean, sun-dried sheets on your beds.”
“You also make their beds as well, don’t you?” he asked.
“I have to keep busy and earn my keep.” She picked up the basket and Brute pulled her in close, pressing his lips against her neck.
“You earn your keep with me.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not in that way, I don’t. That is all for fun and I don’t do it because I have to. I do it because I want to.”
Brute took the basket from her, letting it drop to the ground, and then pulled her in close.
“You want to?”
“Yes.”
She felt her cheeks starting to heat as he smirked at her. For some reason, Brute was able to take her words and make them sound so dirty, without that being her intention.
“You need to get your head out of the gutter,” she said.
“Or, I could be thinking of how perfect your pussy is, and that you were too busy this morning to wake up beside me.”
“I had promised everyone some pancakes,” she said. “So I had to get up early to make a whole batch of them. Did you not like my pancakes?”
“I loved your pancakes. They were delicious, but now, baby, I want something more. Something just for me.”
Faith giggled as he pulled her beside a shed. She had already explored every part of the grounds, or at least every part that Brute said she could.
The shed had a few bottles of weed killer, a couple of cans of paint, and some tools to help keep the yard clear. She could only imagine there was a small yard at some point, but most of it had been tarmacked over. There was a small selection of grass, and she had seen most of the women sunbathing, in the nude. They didn’t seem to care who was walking by.
Brute had been able to find a place for his clubhouse that was secluded.
Cars passed all the time and she had taken note of them going by with a great deal of speed as well, which was quite funny.
She gave a little chuckle as Brute pulled her into the shed. It was damp and stunk of old wood. He pressed her up against the door. During her one and only visit to the shed, she had taken a duster. Yep, she and spiders and cobwebs didn’t mix well, so she cleaned the shed. She liked to clean. It wasn’t a hobby, but it was something she got into the habit of a long time ago.
“I’m starting to think I need to buy you some dresses or skirts, because these jeans are a pain in the ass,” Brute said.
He spun her around, putting her hands flat against the door.
“But I’ve never let a bit of denim get in the way of what I want.”
“And what do you want?” she asked, playing along.
“I want your soaking-wet pussy wrapped around my dick. I want to hear you scream.”
“What makes you think I’m wet?” She tried for coy.
He released the button of her jeans, followed by the zipper, and he tugged it down. She let out a little moan as he gave her ass a slap the moment he had pushed the jeans down her hips.