Series: Silver Spoon MC Series by Nichole Rose
Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
"What are you doing?"
"Feeding you," he growls, painstakingly cutting off a bite of egg.
"I'm not hungry."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Baby doll, stop being stubborn."
"Then stop making me sad!" I cry.
His eyes widen, genuine shock filtering across his face.
"That's the first time you called me baby doll all morning," I whisper, avoiding his gaze. "You're being grumpy again and weird. I don't like it. If you regret last night, just tell me. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. But don't just shut me out and expect me to take the hint, Jude. That's rude and it's making me sad."
"What the fuck?" The fork clatters against the plate. "Look at me, Devin."
"Are you just going to scowl at me again?"
"Look at me."
"Fine!" I throw my hands up in the air and reluctantly shift my gaze back to his. And oh boy, he's really scowling now. His face is thunderous.
"The only thing I regret is the fact that you aren't dripping my cum and screaming for daddy right now, princess," he growls, his voice so deep it sends chills through me.
My nipples immediately harden, my clit pulsing. I can't squeeze my legs together this time, though. He's sitting partially between them, preventing me from finding the friction I now desperately need.
"I'm not shutting you out, either. I was trying to give you time to wake up before I put my greedy hands all over your pristine little body. And I'm a grumpy motherfucker because I should be touching you every goddamn minute of the day and I'm not," he growls, rising to his feet. "That's a fucking problem for me."
"Oh," I whisper.
"Yeah. Oh."
He looms close, his face inches from mine. " If you want to be daddy's little princess all day, every day, say the word," he says quietly. "I'll rip my own heart out before I tell you no, Devin."
"Jude," I whisper.
"That's not my name."
"Daddy."
"You deserve better than me, princess." He groans, resting his forehead against mine. "I'm a dirty old bastard for the things I want to do to you."
"L-like what?"
He groans again. "You're killing me here."
"Yeah?" I smile, pleased by this revelation. I like the thought of unraveling him. He's always so put together, so unruffled. This side of him is so raw and unrefined. It's so sexy. Jude is a fiercely intelligent, wealthy, powerful man. Standing in his presence is like standing in the sun. It's scorching hot and bright enough to burn. But my daddy? He's an unruly, untamed beast. Standing in front of him is like standing on the surface of the sun and realizing it was made just for you. It's pure light, pure power. And god, it's incredible.
"You aren't going to behave, are you, princess?"
"I plead the fifth."
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as devilish amusement overtakes his expression. "That's my line." He says it all the time. Usually when the brothers ask him something he doesn't want to answer.
"Just trying it out."
"I'll make you a deal," he offers.
"Oh, a deal with a fancy defense lawyer?" I tease, tapping my bottom lip.
He narrows his eyes at me, making me giggle. "Eat your breakfast while we talk, and then you can misbehave all you want when we get back to my room."
"Pinky promise?" I hold my pinky up.
He eyes it curiously for a moment as if unsure what to do and then hooks his pinky through it. "Pinky promise," he says.
"Okay," I agree and then fidget. "But, um, what do you want to talk about?"
"Why you're running from your family."
I sigh heavily, my shoulders drooping.
"Did they hurt you, baby doll?" he asks, danger glinting in his blue eyes.
"No, of course not," I hurry to say. Guilt pricks at my heart. I love my brother and my uncle so much. I don't want Jude to think badly of them. "Dimitri was barely out of college when our parents died. But he and Uncle Dante made sure I never wanted for anything. They spoiled me."
"Then why are you running, princess?" Jude asks, picking up my plate again. He scoops up a big bite of egg onto the fork and holds it out to me.
I obediently take the bite, chew, and then swallow before answering. "Because the one thing they couldn't ever give me was freedom," I say. "People…bad people…don't like them. For reasons." I chew on my bottom lip, hesitant to admit that my brother and uncle basically run the criminal underworld in Houston. I'm sure Jude probably figured that out himself when I told him who I am but saying it out loud is different. I may not want to go back home, but I don't want to see my family suffer either. I don't want to pit the three men I love most in the world against one another.
Jude isn't like my brother. He isn't like Uncle Dante. His moral compass isn't a pendulum that swings depending on the situation. He does what is right because it's what's right. He fights for good because it's good. My brother and my uncle…well, they do what they believe is right, even if they have to do wrong to do it. Their definition of right and Jude's are vastly different. They aren't evil men. They aren't bad men. But they aren't soldiers of the light either. They're just men. Jude, though? He's a soldier of the light.