Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
For the millionth time, I go over what I’m going to do to her when I find her. I can’t wait to put my lips on her, to run my hand up her naked spine, to sink into her tight warmth. But more than anything, I can’t wait to love her. To give her everything she needs, to provide for her, protect her, possess her.
I get shivers just from thinking about it.
My bear comes roaring back. He’s pacing around inside, huffing and puffing like the nasty brute he is.
“Just a few more minutes,” I tell him when I spot the mangy bar in the distance. “You’ll have your turn, but I’m first.”
He growls in disagreement. He can growl all he wants, but I’m throwing the first punch on those pathetic wolves.
I pull into the parking lot and sneer when I see a few shiny bikes parked in front.
My heart is pumping with excitement as I park and head inside. The wooden steps that lead to the dilapidated porch creak as I walk up to them with my hands squeezed into fists.
It’s dark and dreary inside the bar. A couple of drunks are commiserating at the tables, complaining as if the whole world has been conspiring to fuck up their lives when in reality it was all them and they don’t need any help from the universe.
The bartender looks over at me, a weathered woman who probably goes to bed every night wondering where her life went wrong.
My eyes lock on the two men sitting at the bar. Lone Wolf Mercenaries is proudly displayed on the backs of their leather cuts. I grit my teeth as my blood boils.
I’m glad I’m the only one here. I don’t want any backup. I want these two punks all to myself.
I crack my knuckles as I head over, trying not to smile.
Fuck, I’m going to enjoy this.
The one on the right, a lanky fucker with long greasy black hair looks at me over his shoulder as I approach.
“Tats,” he says as he slaps his friend’s arm. Tats turns around and I jerk my head back in surprise when I see his face. Every inch of this guy is covered in tattoos. Even his eyelids are covered in ink.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Tats spits as he looks me up and down.
“You smell that?” the lanky fucker asks as he sniffs the air. “Bear.”
“Kodiak bear,” Tats sneers. “Wasn’t the boss looking for Kodiak bears?”
“Who’s your boss?” I growl.
They don’t answer. They just glare at me.
“Dylan Burton?”
They glance at each other after hearing their boss’ name on my lips and then stand up, staring me down as their hands squeeze into fists.
“So, he is alive?”
“He’s alive,” Tats says. He turns to his friend and grins. “How about we lay this fucker out and bring him to Mr. Burton as a gift?”
“Good idea,” the lanky one answers with a sneer. “Mr. Burton can flay him alive and have a nice comfy bearskin rug for his office.”
“Boys,” the bartender says as she backs up with wide eyes. “Take it outside please.”
The guys step forward, ignoring her.
My bear thrashes around inside, desperate to get out.
I squeeze my body, holding him back. They lunge at me.
I leap out of the way with a grunt and throw a punch that grazes the lanky guy’s cheek. It barely hits, but it gets his attention.
“Fur or skin?” Tats asks his friend.
“What’s it been since our last fight?” he answers, never taking his eyes off me. “Three days?”
“Has it been that long?”
Lanky fucker nods. “Yeah, it’s been that long. I say skin.”
Tats rolls his head. “Sounds good to me.”
They both leap on me at the same time. I jump back, hitting a table that screeches across the floor. I eat three punches, but it feels good. It also gets my bear frothing at the mouth to come out.
I grab the lanky guy’s long black hair and crack him in the face with a hard uppercut. Tats jumps on me and wraps his arm around my neck. He’s stronger than I thought, but a wolf can’t match a bear’s strength. Especially mine.
I pry his arm off and throw him over my shoulder, slamming him into the table. He rips through it, slicing the thick wood in half.
“No!” the bartender shouts. “Outside. Please!”
I start heading toward the door so we don’t bust up her whole place, but the wolves regroup and lunge at me again.
Tats gets my knuckles in his face, but the lanky fuck manages to land a few shots on me. I take three in the ribs and a hard roundhouse to my temples which has me seeing stars for half a second.
I grab him and launch him across the room. He sails over the sticky bar, taking several empty beer bottles out with him.