Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I press the door to the garage open. Noticing the dim light above is already on, I kick the door closed behind me and pause when I look up to see Wicked leaning on his bike.
Sighing, I take the steps down and fall onto the bottom one, popping open the bottle of tequila.
“Really? That party wasn’t enough for you?”
“First of all…” I say, raising my finger while wrapping my lips around the tip. “I didn’t get to drink because of Poppy. And second?” I lean back on my elbow, taking another swig. “I’d rather drink at home.” When he starts moving toward me, my legs slam closed. Which is ridiculous because it’s not like they were open anyway.
He passes the Lamborghini, my Aston, and the Rolls, before stopping directly in front of me. My eyes travel up from his boots, past his bare chest and strong abs, and up past the veins on his neck before resting on his eyes.
He swipes the bottom of his thumb against the curve of his lip. “There a reason why you’re in the garage?”
I slowly lift the bottle to my lips, flashing my lashes up at him from below. “No. You?”
“Jesus fuck.” He leans down, snatching the bottle out of my hand. I think he’s about to toss a just-opened bottle of Don to the side when he stares down at me while tipping his head back slightly to take a drink.
I shuffle to the side for him and he falls down beside me, but a step up. “Do you know why Papa wants you yet?”
He shuffles his legs, and one comes painfully close to mine. I hold my breath before turning slightly to grab the bottle from him. Our eyes collide and everything around me fades to the back of my mind. “No, I don’t.” His tongue slides over his bottom lip. “Do you?”
Shaking my head, I whisper, “No.”
“The guy from tonight. He your boyfriend?”
I chuckle, finally snatching the bottle back and bringing it to my lips. Sounds stupid, but sharing a bottle with him makes my brain short-circuit. I wonder what he feels like. Tastes like. Jesus Christ, Ruby… the tequila is working. Before I realize I’ve left too big of a gap between questions, I quickly say, “No. God no. Why?” I turn around. This time my knee collides with his thigh and both of our eyes fly to the connection.
I wince before he wraps his fingers around my chin, forcing my face up to his. “Daddy told me not to touch you, and lucky for him, I do think I owe him some kind of loyalty since I whacked off my old man and he did save Poppy, but hear me out—” He presses his thumb against my lower lip, forcing my mouth slightly open. His mouth kicks up in a smirk. “You ever look at me the way you are right now? And I’ll fuck you on his office desk and leave my marks all over your body. I don’t give a fuck.” My eyes stay on his mouth. I want to lean forward and kiss him, but I know he’ll pull back. “Nod if you agree.”
My head moves up and down, and he releases my lip, leaning back on his elbow like he didn’t just ignite a wick that has never been lit.
I squeeze my eyes closed and take another drink. Then another. “Papa really told you to stay away from me?”
His arm wraps around my body, his long fingers tightening around the glass bottle. “Yup.”
“Huh. He’s never had to do that before.”
Reaching for the paper bag, I take out the french fries and give him the rest. I suck the salt off my thumb, my eyes moving between his lips and eyes. “Well, if you’re not going to kiss me, then you can tell me your story.”
His dark brows pull in. “What?” The muscles on the side of his jaw tense.
A chuckle escapes me as I reach into the fry bucket. “Never mind. I think I’m drunk.” When he doesn’t answer me, I look up at him, trying to hide my smile.
“Are you blackmailing me to kiss you?”
“What?” My face scrunches. “Excuse me, but I don’t need to blackmail a man if I want to be kissed.” I toss a fry at his annoying face and can’t help but laugh when it hits the tip of his pierced nose.
“Oh yeah?” he teases. “Pretty sure you are.”
I roll my tongue over my teeth, pushing up from the ground. “Okay then. Let’s test that theory.”
“What are you doing?” He turns his head over his shoulder slightly, and his dimple sinks into his cheek when he laughs. “Sit your ass down.”
I reach for the door handle, opening it wide. “Oh, Val!” I call out in my most fairy-tale princess voice.
The door slams closed and I’m staring at an arm rippling of muscle and veins. I smirk, slowly turning back to face Wicked when his hand is on my throat, shoving me up against the door. My organs melt to the tips of my toes when his chest pushes against mine. “Do that shit again and see what happens.”