Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I swallow hard. “Yours?” My voice feels so small.
“Ours.” Wraith moves so he's standing next to Tank. “All of ours.”
“We want you as our old lady,” says Nitro as he joins them. “We fucking love you, Kaylee. You have to know that.”
I have no idea if my eyes are as big as they feel right now, but my chest just went so tight that the only thing I manage to squeak out is, “Love?”
“You've seen how some of the other old ladies are with their guys. Fuck, we want that too.” Tank swallows, like he's feeling the intensity too. “We want that with you. Until we grow old and fucking die. So yeah, we fucking love you.”
“Don't say die.” I finally find my voice. “Too many people died already.”
Wraith takes a step closer. “So maybe you think this is fucked up, or maybe this is what you want, but you need to let us know, sweetheart. Do you wanna spend the rest of your life with us? Be our old lady? In good and bad, sickness, health, I don't fucking know. I don't know the whole list, but I do know I fucking love you. And now you've heard it from all of us. So the question is this. What do you fucking want?”
Oh God. My heart's thundering, my pulse is so loud in my ears that I don't think I can hear anything anymore. I clench my fists so tight it hurts. “What do I want? I want you. Wraith, Tank, Nitro, all three of you. Yes. Yes! I want all of you. Who else would it be? Always you.” And it's true. I feel it with every fiber of my being. No one is ever going to make me feel like my guys do. Never. “You're mine. Always.” I wet my lips and smile nervously. “Isn't this the part where you guys kiss me?”
“You bet your sexy fucking ass it is,” growls Tank, and then he's the first one there, lifting me right up in his arms, propping me up with his hands under my butt as he kisses me like he'll die if he doesn't. I only get a moment to draw breath when he pulls away, as I'm passed right over to Nitro, who kisses me so fiercely I'm surprised I'm not on fire by the time he passes me to Wraith. And there's that melty kiss that he's so good at, the one I fell for that first night when they dropped me off. And it's only gotten better since then.
But then he carries me to the tattoo chair to put me down in it. I look up at the three of them, towering over me. I smile mischievously. “Are we playing with markers again?”
Wraith shakes his head. “No markers this time. Baby, if you're going to be ours, properly claimed as ours, we want the whole fucking world to know it. So the question is, will you let us?”
Oh.
Oh!
“For real?” I swallow thickly. A tattoo? Three tattoos. “Do I have to?”
“No. No one's gonna fucking force you to do anything you don't want ever again. We wouldn't put you through that.” It's Wraith who says it, but all three of them nod, looking determined. I'm realizing that when they mean protect me, they mean it, from demons out there, but also any demons I have on the inside. But it's also obvious that it would mean a lot to them.
And to me.
So I nod. “Okay. Yeah. Do it. Just… keep me distracted.”
Tank grins.
“No, not like that. Jeez. Just… be here with me.”
Wraith nods. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”
41
KAYLEE
Sun, warmth, salty air over my skin, soft white sand under me and the shade of a convenient palm tree? Wraith definitely delivered on his promise.
Tank comes my way, carrying a bottle of Coke and a beer, wearing nothing but a pair of dark blue swimming shorts. He looks freaking amazing, his broad chest and shoulders nicely tanned. It's not fair—we both slathered on sunblock, but it's like his gorgeous body is generating the soft brown shade on its own, while I'm getting nothing. Nothing!
I'll enjoy the view, though.
Behind him come Wraith and Nitro, their beers already open and carrying a huge cooler between them. It's strange to see them so out of their biker element, but at the same time, no one would ever mistake them for anything else. Just on vacation, is all.
Tank hands me my Coke, then drops onto the blanket next to me. It's me, them, the beach, the ocean, and nothing else in sight. There's an advantage to having ridden down to Mexico on motorcycles, even if my butt was so ready to not be anywhere near a bike seat by the time we got here. It means that we can go wherever we want, like beaches well away from the tourist traps. This one is so remote that there isn't another soul nearby.