Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
We make our way back to the other guy, and I stare at him. This fucker must weigh nearly four hundred pounds. Marney crosses his arms, his eyes trained on the massive man laid out in the grass.
“Little darlin’ over there better suck it up.”
I chuckle and glance back at her. “Hey little darlin’,” I sing out. “Need a hand over here.”
She places her hands on her hips and cocks an eyebrow. “You want me to touch a dead fat man?”
“Isn’t that what you went to school for?” I can’t help but laugh. She looks so damn pissed.
“Oh, yes, Jude. I went to school so I could shoulder press morbidly obese corpses!” Her voice grows more hysterical as she goes on.
“You’re being a ball-ache. Just come get his ankles, unless you want to hang out here to see if Joe likes you better as a brunette?”
“You mean his kankles.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You want my help?” She raises an eyebrow. “Beg me.”
Oh, fuck no! I feel the smile fade from my face as I glare at her.
I lean down to grab one of the man’s arms. “Unlike you, I don’t fucking beg.” I smirk. “Now come grab a kankle, would you?”
She stomps over to us like a fucking kid that’s not getting their way. Huffing, she bends down to grab one of the man’s legs.
“Well,” Marney says, grinning like a shit-eating bastard, “looks like you two have been getting along better than you should.”
“Oh, dear God,” she whines. “He smells so bad, and that’s not even the stench of death.” She looks utterly disgusted.
We pick the man up, struggling to cart his dead weight across the road.
“Oh, my God. What if someone drives down the street?” Tor lets go of his leg, and it falls to the ground with a thud.
I roll my eyes. “Jesus. No one’s driving down the damn road.”
“And if they did, we’d just shoot ‘em,” Marney says with a shrug.
She holds her hands up in front of her and shakes her head. “You are both insane. Fucked up!”
“Fuck, are you just now realizing this?” I groan. “Get his fucking leg and stop your bitching, woman.”
We manage to get the man across the road. Sweat is trickling down my temples and Marney’s gone into a coughing fit. Tor, she’s still holding his leg, her foot tapping over the dirt road.
I climb into the trunk and attempt to lift the man up, but he barely budges. Marney uses his weight to try and hoist the man up, but even that’s not enough.
“Tor!”
She huffs and moves, pushing against the body. She’s so small that she’s in very real danger of being completely crushed by this fat fucker.
“Oh God, I’m going to throw up.” She whines as her face presses against his stomach.
“Wait, wait, wait!” I hop down and pull her away from him “Just…” I shake my head. She’s no help, and I think part of me got her to do it just to see if she would. “Just go sit in the car with my brother.”
“Arsehole,” she grumbles before she stomps away.
I catch a glimpse of my reflection as I pull open the door to the basement. My shirt is wet, clinging to my body from the gory mess splattered all over it.
“I cannot believe you made me do that!” Tor shouts, following behind me. I cock a brow, turning to walk backward so I can look at her. Blood is smeared all over the front of her shirt.
“Like you’ve never had someone’s guts on you before. Get a grip.” I wipe a speck of dried blood from her cheek, before turning to go into my office.
Her nostrils flare. “Do you think this is funny?” she screams. “That was not fucking funny, Jude! I got fucking shot at!” She throws her hands up. “I’ve got some guy’s blood all over me!”
“Well, it was kinda funny watching you feel up a dead guy.”
She growls and raises her hand to slap me, but I catch it in the air and squeeze her wrist. I glare at her. Damn, she has a short fuse. “What did I tell you about slapping me?” I jerk her body to mine. “You need to rein that damn temper in,” I warn, my face inching toward hers. I would rein it in for her if it didn’t turn me on so much. I feel her breath on my mouth and I lose it. I growl as I slam my lips over hers in a brutal kiss. What the fuck am I doing? She grabs my head, her fingers pulling at my hair. I grip the back of her head, forcing her mouth against mine, making the kiss deeper. A small moan presses through her lips, and I lose all fucking control.
I use one hand to swat the door closed, then I back her toward my desk. She’s clawing at my shirt frantically, and I manage to rip my mouth from hers long enough to tear the bloodied shirt over my head. I grab the hem of her shirt and tear it from her body. The long purple scar snaking its way down her stomach makes my pulse lose a beat. I swallow and slam my lips back over hers. Her legs hit the desk and she falls back. I shouldn’t do this, but I can’t fucking help it. This woman is like heroin: it can fucking kill you, but is so damn good it’s worth the risk. Her hands clumsily grip my zipper as she grabs at the waist of my jeans, working them over my hips.