Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Don’t waste food, Kitty.” Grease frowns, taking my discarded piece and chomping into it.
My stomach dips when another body joins us. “Surprised to find you in here, Grease,” Cutter says with a mocking tone as he waltzes over to the fruit bowl and picks up a banana.
“Fuck you. Do you know how many calories it takes to fuel this machine?” Grease waves a hand down his body for emphasis.
“It is quite the machine.” I wink at Grease, and his smug smile makes Cutter roll his eyes.
“I’m out. Have a good night, Kitty.” Grease jerks his head, his footfalls padding across the floor.
“What about me?” Cutter holds out his hands.
“I hope you slip with a hard-on and break your dick,” Grease calls out.
“Harsh,” Cutter muses as Grease’s chuckle fades down the hall.
“But fair,” I point out.
The smirk he gifts me tightens my core. No matter how strong I want to be, he has a power over my body that’s uncontrollable.
Changing the subject, he says, “Rocco’s hungry.” He waggles the banana. “He also likes your cat.”
“Who wouldn’t? He’s adorable.” I shrug, stroking Keg’s back.
“You seem different.” He leans a hip on the counter directly opposite me, shifting the banana from one hand to the other. The overhead light is brilliant white, highlighting the ocean blue of his eyes. I turn my gaze from his and refill the plate for Keg.
“Do I?” I whisper, fighting against his hold over me. It’s stronger than steel.
“Yeah.” He runs the back of his hand down my cheek, and my heart surges into a gallop. “I like it.”
No. He doesn’t get to do this.
Flinching away, I narrow my eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to your wife and kid?”
“Claire’s gone. It’s just Rocco and me.” He scratches the back of his neck, almost seeming nervous, and his gaze drops to his boots. “We’re going to watch a movie. He won’t sleep with the noise. You want to watch with us?”
The clenching of my jaw sends pain shooting up my cheeks. “Are you serious?” He has to be joking.
“It’s just a movie, Kit.”
Hell no, it’s not just a freaking movie.
Bundling Keg into my arms, I sidle up real close to Cutter, forcing his gaze to burn into mine. “I’d rather poke my own eyes out and lie on a bed of broken glass than cozy up in your room watching movies with you and your kid.” I smack my shoulder into him as I walk away.
“It’s not his fault he was born, Kit.” There’s sadness in his tone.
Fuck him.
“No, it’s yours.”
Closing my bedroom door, I flick the light on and startle at the figure sitting on the end of the bed. Keg leaps from my arms, his paws making a soft thud on the ground. He runs his body across Chris’s leg, making a contented purring sound.
“Hey,” I murmur, chucking the leash on the dresser.
Slouched forward, legs parted, elbows resting on his knees, Chris looks up, defeated. “I should be on top of the world.” Exhaling, he turns his head to look at me. “I’ve wanted this patch for a long time—had to kill to earn it.”
Anxiety claws at my spine at his admission.
“You shouldn’t be telling me this.” I shake my head. All I ever wanted from Cutter was honesty, for him to trust me enough to share small details, and here’s Chris, offering them so freely. It’s dangerous.
“Who should I be telling?”
“No one. Ever,” I snap, going to the bathroom and filling a glass of water in the sink. Padding back to him, I shove the water toward his lips. “Drink this. You need to sober up.”
“Everyone’s out there celebrating me.” He sniffles, taking the glass, watching the liquid as it swirls in front of him.
“I know.”
“Where were you?” He looks up, his tone accusatory.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.” I exhale slowly, unbuttoning my pants and pushing them down my legs.
Scoffing, his eyes return to the glass dangling in his grip between his legs. “You’re the only person I want to see. As soon as the leather touched my back, my first thought was telling you.”
“I’m really happy for you,” I say sincerely.
“Are you?”
“Yes, of course I am.” Irritation flares. This is what I didn’t want. We weren’t supposed to be this.
Going to Goldie’s bowl, I pop the lid on his food and scatter the colorful pieces over the water.
“Does it make a difference?”
“Does what make a difference?”
“Now that I’m a full-fledged brother, does it make a difference between us?”
Whipping around to face him, I grunt, “You think I care about that shit?”
“It’s about Cutter then.” He stands, knocking back the water and dumping the glass on the dresser.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I’m over this and tired.
“You think I’m fucking stupid, Kit? I see how you look at him, how he can’t keep his fucking eyes off you.” This sounds like jealous boyfriend shit, and we were never that.