Antichrist Read Online Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Biker, Dark, Mafia, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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My eyes flutter down to his grip and then right up at the crowd spilling out of the bar. “Ah, last night I just joked with a couple of the guys.”

He hits the button to cut the engine and I reach for the handle, but not before his hand is on my chin, forcing my face to his. A smile is on his mouth, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. The kind I am used to.

“Remember how I get jealous when I’m not in the game, honey.” He shoves my face away and turns to exit the car. “Take the jacket off and pop the buttons on your blouse. If you’ve already made me look like a fool, you better make sure they see why I stick around.”

The car door slams and I remain quiet in my spot, slowly bringing my fingers to the buttons of my jacket to pop them off one at a time. Rolling the warmth off my shoulder, I reach for the handle once more while flicking open the first three buttons of my silk blouse until it’s displaying the edges of my red lace bra. My eyes throb from the dryness of not blinking as I finally slip out the passenger door. I don’t know where Luca has disappeared to, and in the back of my mind I find it odd at the kind of informal nature of him being here, but before I can think into it too much, Ma is coming out the bar with a cigarette between her fingers.

She flicks her bangs away from her forehead, pointing at me with the trunk of her smoke. “You coming in dressed like that is asking for trouble, Meraki. You know better.”

Unfortunately, I do, but I’m going to do it anyway.

I steal the smoke from between her fingers and bring it to my scarlet lips. “I know.”

She doesn’t move, her hands still in the same position they were before I stole her cancer stick.

I exhale a cloud and place the cigarette back between her fingers. “I’m not sure what I’m doing anymore, Ma.”

Before she can answer me, I make my way through the bar, sidestepping past the congestion of leather vests and the smell of last night’s pussy until I’m in front of Lila.

“You look hot but stressed.”

I place my phone on the bar, finding no extra seats. When I see a drunk girl on the stool closest to me, her naked body flopped over and dribble dripping from her mouth as snores leave her cocaine dusted nostrils, I shove her from the stool and take her spot. Her body hits the floor around the loud music, but she still doesn’t wake. Someone should probably check on that.

“Harsh.” Lila laughs, pouring brown liquor into a glass filled with two giant ice cubes. “Man, you might need a double.”

I flick my fingers at her and nod. “I think you’re right.”

I don’t seek out Luca because a part of me already knows that wherever he is, he’ll be telling everyone of his great accomplishments. Anyone who’ll listen. Unfortunately, Halsin is filled with people who know who Luca and his family are. They’re respected, to an extent, and I don’t think I’ve ever thought really hard about why. The people who respect their family, who I’ve always seen chatting to his father, are people I’d never see at his Sunday service.

A palm is on my lower back and goose bumps sprawl out over the base of my spine, electricity crackling between our bodies. I don’t have to turn around to know who it is. Only one man alive could make me feel the way he does, and the other? Well, he’s dead.

The warmth of his hand disappears and lands on the counter in front of me as I slowly bring the glass to my lips and keep my eyes on a doe-eyed Lila. His other hand rests on the other side, caging me in. I hold my breath, running the base of my tongue over my lip to suck up the residue of alcohol.

His mouth touches the curve of my ear and I have to close my eyes to calm the surge of butterflies that explode in my belly. “Why’d you bring him here?”

I gulp, swiping my thumb beneath my lip and turning on the barstool until we’re face to face. Well, face to chest.

He doesn’t shuffle backward to give me space. Typical. Always my greedy monster with a taste for what’s not his.

His eyes shift down the side of my jaw, farther down the dip of my blouse, and then land on my upper thighs. I spread my legs farther, for space, but I realize the position we’re both in would make it look inviting to him.

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk. “Nah, baby-cat.”



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