Tacet a Mortuis (Whispers from the Dead) Read Online Amo Jones (Elite King’s Club #3)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Elite King's Club Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
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That brought a smile to my face because these boys were my brothers, so to hear that she cared about them took a load off my shoulders. I never doubted her anyway, that’s just who she was, but we had done fucked up shit to her in the past. I wasn’t sure whether that had done some permanent psychological damage to her. Guess time would tell how deep the scars were, especially the ones that were signed with my initials.

I squeezed her to me. “I know.”

She rested her head on my chest and snuggled into me more. She wasn’t short, but she was tiny up against me. “Tell me your favorite color.” She yawned, lacing her fingers with mine.

“Black. Yours?”

She giggled. “Mine’s blue. Well, more like a teal color. A mix of green and blue, but more of a green. It’s like that pastel color.”

“You couldn’t just say red or something simple,” I snorted. That was part of her charm.

She shook her head against my chest. “No, I’m not simple, so you should probably run away now.”

“Sorry, baby, running shoes don’t go with my outfit.”

She giggled, the high pitch notes of it hitting the lifeless rides. Her laugh itself could breathe life back into the dead, let alone this abandoned amusement park.

Her laughter died out, then she tilted her head up to look at me from under my arm. Our eyes stayed locked together until my chest fucking tightened. “What?” I whispered, my eyes falling to her lips.

“Is this real?”

“If it’s not, I’ll kill the mother fucker who created it.”

“I can’t live without you, Bishop.”

“Shhh.” I pulled her head back under my arm. I wasn’t going to tell her that she wouldn’t have to worry about that. At least not until we had come back from Perdita.

We were driving back out to the cabin. The rest of the cars following behind me. Tate had jumped in with Nate, and Hunter tried to jump in with us, but I kicked everyone out. The more time I spent with Madison, where it was just her and I, I started craving more of it. The pups will have to learn to give us some space.

“I love this song.” Madison bobbed her head, turning the music up.

“What’s it called?” I asked. Usually, this kind of music wasn’t really my thing, but the voice, lyrics, and beat was catchy.

“It’s Nikyee Heaton ‘I’m Ready’…” she smiled at me looking out of the corner of her eye. “Most of her songs are about love and sex, mostly sex.”

“Fitting lyrics.”

“Yup!” She popped the P. “Which is mainly why I love this song.”

She turned it up louder and then hit repeat when it ended. By the time we were pulling down the private driveway to the cabin, I was pretty sure I knew every lyric to the song.

We both got out and shut the doors as the rest of the cars pulled up. It was hitting close to midnight, so I threw up deuces to the guys and led Madison inside and up to the master bedroom. The cabin had been in our family for generations. The main level had a full wrap porch, the whole house built from tarnished logs. Then there was the second level that had around five bedrooms, and then the master bedroom took up the entire third level with a wraparound glass wall so you have a full view of the grounds. My dad created this extension, him and his paranoia, but the cabin itself had been in our family for generations. I swore the ghosts of my ancestors still walked these halls, and proof would have it that that wasn’t a very reassuring thing to feel.

“Wow.” Madison ran her hand down the old four-post wooden bed. The engravings in the wood filled with intricate designs and patterns. “I swear nothing should surprise me anymore.” She yawned and stretched her arms above but flinched.

I removed Nate’s clothes and tossed them into the corner before pulling the covers back. “You alright?”

She flushed. “Fine.” Then tossed her clothes off and onto the floor. I stilled when I saw the blue and black bruising around her thighs, arms, and even slightly around her neck.

“Fuck.” I shot off the bed toward her.

“What?” She panicked, then her eyes dropped down to her thighs. She relaxed. “Oh,” she pulled the covers back and slid into the sheets.

“No, Mads, not ‘oh.’”

“What’s the big deal?” She yawned again. She was tired, so I didn’t want to annoy her.

I sunk into the bed and pulled her into me. “I’ll try to go softer, but I can’t guarantee it.”

She shot off the bed as if she wasn’t just yawning like someone who hadn’t slept in weeks. “No. Don’t. I love it.”

I paused, trying to pick up any dishonesty, then sighed. “Thank fuck, because I honestly can’t help myself. Now get back here. I won’t fuck you tonight, but in the morning, your ass is mine.”


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