with the Buonarroti family! I made fuckin’ promises and I’m aim to keep them. A man's fuckin' word is a man's fuckin' word. You think this is a game? No? Good. Now get your fuckin’ ass in gear!”
He swiveled around, his narrowed eyes swept over the blonde, across the room, and then finally to me. And stared.
H e had let his beard grow out, there were signs of gray interspersed among the blonde and a few lines around his eyes. I sucked in a breath. He'd grown even more beautiful with age.
“Gotta go,” He said to his phone and tossed it on the desk.
I cleared my throat. “I was in the neighborhood,” I said dumbly. “Thought I’d stop by.”
“You were in the neighborhood,” He repeated.
I nodded. Wow. I was such an idiot. If she’d heard this, Kami would have kick ed my ass.
“Cole,” The woman hissed. “Who the fuck is this girl?”
I had never heard anyone call Deuce anything but Deuce. I knew his real name, Cole West, but it didn’t fit. Deuce, meaning “Devil”, fit him.
Deuce blinked and looked back at the blonde. "Get the fuck outta here, Christine. You got your fuckin' money, now go."
He glanced back at me and I watched his icy blues drink me in from head to toe and back up again, stopping on his father’s medallion. His lips curved into a smile.
I felt my body go soft, warm and needy. He did this to me just by looking at me. His power over me was incredible, indescribable, as it had always been. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen him in four years; I wanted him every bit as badly as the last time and the time before that. Even more because I’d had him and had craved him ever since.
He saw the change in me, noticed it instantly. His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened with hunger. I knew this look. Deuce was hungry. I was food.
I loved that look. It made me feel beautiful, powerful and utterly feminine.
I sucked in air through my nose willing myself to stay put when I wanted nothing more than to run to him, strip him naked and fuck him blind.
“You here alone?” He asked roughly.
I shook my head. “Brought Kami with me.”
His eyes narrowed and I stifled a laugh. He obviously remembered her.
“Where is she?”
“Entertaining a few of your boys.”
He smirked. “Cox?”
“And Ripper.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nice.”
“Cole! Who the fuck is this bitch and why the fuck is she wearin’ a Horsemen tag?”
His head swiveled back to Christine. “What the fuck did I say to you? Get the fuck outta here!”
Her face went arctic. Glacial. “No,” She hissed. “Tell me why this little girl is standin’ in your office wearin' a Horsemen tag! Old ladies don’t get ‘em , kids don’t get ‘em unless they get a cut and ain't no girl ever got a cut and whores sure as fuck don’t get em. So why the fuck does this bitch have one!"
Deuce stood up. His Harley belt buckle sagged low on low rise, baggy jeans, jeans that were as equally holey as his white tee shirt. To quote Kami, “H-O-T”.
"Get out," He growled.
"TELL ME WHY SHE'S WEARIN' IT!"
Deuce's fists came slamming down on his desk sending papers and file folders flying everywhere. "Because I fuckin' gave it to her!"
Christine's head snapped sideways. "You little fuckin' whore!" She screamed.
My mouth fell open and I took a step backwards. This was exactly why my father didn't allow his boy's old ladies in the club unless it was a planned visit or a Sunday barbeque.
"Christine!" Deuce bellowed. Take the money you came for and get your fuckin' ass outta here!"
Ignoring Deuce, she kept her frightening gaze on me. "What the fuck did you have to do to get that?" She hissed. "You some kinda kinky fucked up whore who takes on three brothers at a time? Was that your fuckin' prize for being such a goddamn slut, for fuckin' other women's men? You fuckin' proud of yourself you stupid little skank
He swiveled around, his narrowed eyes swept over the blonde, across the room, and then finally to me. And stared.
H e had let his beard grow out, there were signs of gray interspersed among the blonde and a few lines around his eyes. I sucked in a breath. He'd grown even more beautiful with age.
“Gotta go,” He said to his phone and tossed it on the desk.
I cleared my throat. “I was in the neighborhood,” I said dumbly. “Thought I’d stop by.”
“You were in the neighborhood,” He repeated.
I nodded. Wow. I was such an idiot. If she’d heard this, Kami would have kick ed my ass.
“Cole,” The woman hissed. “Who the fuck is this girl?”
I had never heard anyone call Deuce anything but Deuce. I knew his real name, Cole West, but it didn’t fit. Deuce, meaning “Devil”, fit him.
Deuce blinked and looked back at the blonde. "Get the fuck outta here, Christine. You got your fuckin' money, now go."
He glanced back at me and I watched his icy blues drink me in from head to toe and back up again, stopping on his father’s medallion. His lips curved into a smile.
I felt my body go soft, warm and needy. He did this to me just by looking at me. His power over me was incredible, indescribable, as it had always been. It didn't matter that I hadn't seen him in four years; I wanted him every bit as badly as the last time and the time before that. Even more because I’d had him and had craved him ever since.
He saw the change in me, noticed it instantly. His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened with hunger. I knew this look. Deuce was hungry. I was food.
I loved that look. It made me feel beautiful, powerful and utterly feminine.
I sucked in air through my nose willing myself to stay put when I wanted nothing more than to run to him, strip him naked and fuck him blind.
“You here alone?” He asked roughly.
I shook my head. “Brought Kami with me.”
His eyes narrowed and I stifled a laugh. He obviously remembered her.
“Where is she?”
“Entertaining a few of your boys.”
He smirked. “Cox?”
“And Ripper.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nice.”
“Cole! Who the fuck is this bitch and why the fuck is she wearin’ a Horsemen tag?”
His head swiveled back to Christine. “What the fuck did I say to you? Get the fuck outta here!”
Her face went arctic. Glacial. “No,” She hissed. “Tell me why this little girl is standin’ in your office wearin' a Horsemen tag! Old ladies don’t get ‘em , kids don’t get ‘em unless they get a cut and ain't no girl ever got a cut and whores sure as fuck don’t get em. So why the fuck does this bitch have one!"
Deuce stood up. His Harley belt buckle sagged low on low rise, baggy jeans, jeans that were as equally holey as his white tee shirt. To quote Kami, “H-O-T”.
"Get out," He growled.
"TELL ME WHY SHE'S WEARIN' IT!"
Deuce's fists came slamming down on his desk sending papers and file folders flying everywhere. "Because I fuckin' gave it to her!"
Christine's head snapped sideways. "You little fuckin' whore!" She screamed.
My mouth fell open and I took a step backwards. This was exactly why my father didn't allow his boy's old ladies in the club unless it was a planned visit or a Sunday barbeque.
"Christine!" Deuce bellowed. Take the money you came for and get your fuckin' ass outta here!"
Ignoring Deuce, she kept her frightening gaze on me. "What the fuck did you have to do to get that?" She hissed. "You some kinda kinky fucked up whore who takes on three brothers at a time? Was that your fuckin' prize for being such a goddamn slut, for fuckin' other women's men? You fuckin' proud of yourself you stupid little skank
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