Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Sure, a part of it was because of Valen. His dad was in the club, so the whole club became our family. But they’d been super welcoming to me too.
The girls club had already been around to throw in their suggestions about different finishes and paint colors.
But none of that could be done until the place was pretty much gutted.
Which was what Valen, Voss, Nave, and a couple of the other guys were inside doing. All I’d heard since I showed up with coffee was slamming and sawing and hammering.
“Is there a reason you girls are all out here instead of in there doing work?” Hope asked as she walked up, looking just as tired as every time I’d seen her since being back in town.
Her job, apparently, sucked. As did her coworkers. And no one really understood why she put up with it.
“Um, because we don’t want to do manual labor?” Vi said, shrugging.
“I’m all for, you know, the feminism and breaking down of gender norms,” Layna said. “But I think the men should do the wall-tearing-down thing. And not just because I’m afraid the place is full of black mold.”
“It’s been a… supportive morning,” Gracie said, giving Hope an eye roll.
“Well, if it makes anyone feel better, I saw Billie on her way here too.”
“There are not enough crystals or good vibes to—“ Vi started, only cutting off when Gracie finally snapped and told her to ‘Shut up already.’
“Anyway. Happy housewarming,” Hope said, holding out a bottle of booze to me. “Are we… calling this a house?” she added.
“Oh, my God. Not you too,” Gracie said, looking like she was ready to pull her own hair out.
“I think you need this more than I do,” I told her, holding out the bottle to her. “It’s okay,” I added. “I know the place is rough. They’re not hurting my feelings. I wasn’t the one to fuck it up. But I’m going to be the one to fix it.”
“And by her, she means me,” Valen said, walking out of the front door with his white shirt smeared with dirt and sticking to his body with sweat.
I swear the need to have him, right then, right there, almost brought me to my knees.
“Not my fault you volunteered,” I said, shrugging.
“By ‘volunteered,’ you mean that Brooks made it part of our prospecting duties,” he said as he gave the girls a nod.
“Hey, it’s also not my fault that he likes me more than you,” I said, getting a slap on the ass for the comment. “How’s it going?” I asked, looking over when the Henchmen SUV pulled up.
Then there was Dezi.
With enough pizzas to feed a literal army.
“Lunchtime,” he called.
“It’s going,” Valen said. “I have to show you something we found in the basement, though,” he said.
“It’s black mold, isn’t it?” Layna asked, shaking her head.
“Or a pentagram on the floor from whatever hellbeast the previous owners conjured up to curse this place?” Vi added, getting a chuckle out of her brother.
“No pentagrams. Yet. We’ll be right back,” he said, leading me toward the house where he told the others that it was break time.
“Seriously. What is it?” I asked, stomach tensing as we went down the narrow stairs to the too-dark basement, the only working light being in a back corner, just a hanging bulb that swayed when someone walked on the floor above, giving the whole basement a serial killer den vibe.
He didn’t answer me.
Oh, no.
He grabbed the back of my neck, swinging me around by it to face him, and crashing his lips down on mine.
Hard.
Hungry.
Almost bruising in their intensity.
Sure, our friends and family were just a floor and half a front yard away. But neither of us could muster a fuck to give about that as our hands clawed at clothing, desperate to feel each other.
My shirt joined Valen’s on the filthy floor. It wasn’t long until my bra followed. Or both of our pants.
“Were you bending over all day to fucking torture me?” he growled as his hand slipped inside my panties, teasing up my cleft to find my clit, and working it relentlessly.
“I was weeding,” I said, letting out a small chuckle until I felt his fingers plunging inside of me, stealing all the humor and replacing it with hunger.
“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled as my hand awkwardly fumbled with his button and zipper before moving inside to grab his straining cock.
A growl escaped him as I started to stroke him, making his hand slide out of my panties just so he could rip the material away before slamming me back against the wall.
Reaching down, he grabbed my leg, lifting it, and pinning it to the wall as he slammed inside me.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his forehead pressing to mine as he looked for a little bit of self-control.