Pound of Flesh Read online Jessa Kane

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
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“Like fuck you will,” Raider intones darkly, turning the force of his violent stare on the men. “I’m only giving you one warning to stop speaking to her.”

I’m so stunned by what’s happening that I have to shake myself. “Hey. Wait a damn minute. I’m with him because I want to be.”

Two of the men snicker, the other two shaking their heads. “Now you can’t expect me to believe…” The speaker’s attention drops to my legs, roving lazily higher to my breasts. “A pretty little thing like you took up with him of your own free will. We’re trying to help. Just come on along with us—”

“Mine.” Raider’s fist comes down so hard on the table, it splits straight down the center, sending wood crashing to the floor. And out come the guns. Four of them. Pointed right at Raider. “I warned you.”

“No! No, wait.” Raider looks determined to walk straight into the line of fire in order to get his hands on those men. I have a pretty high suspicion Raider could survive a few bullets and take on those four pencil dicks, but I’m not chancing it. No, I can’t let him get hurt. Nor can I let their terrible judgment of him stand. So he’s huge and terrifying! He should still be able to have a burger and a Coke in peace.

I don’t have time to come up with a master plan, so I do what comes instinctively to convince these men I’m truly not being held captive by Raider. Stepping over the ruined lumber, I close the distance between myself and Raider, where he’s just beginning to rise from his seat.

I straddle his lap, lock my legs up around his impossibly broad waist…and I go for broke kissing him.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Raider

The bright red rage in my head sputters and swerves like a derailing train. My violent vengeance meter is at a ten when Delilah climbs onto my lap and settles those soft, pretty lips on mine. My muscles are tight to bursting, possessiveness raging so loud in my chest it would deafen the world if played over a radio. No one is taking my girl. They’ve earned a loss of blood just from the way they looked at her. As though she were on the menu right alongside those burgers.

I knew bringing Delilah to a restaurant was a risk. Just like I told her before, no one in their right goddamn mind would believe a beautiful doll like her would go anywhere with the likes of me. Not without a fight. But I’m keeping her, and I aim to make her happy, so I’d reasoned that eventually we’d have to go out in public. Should have known something like this would happen. Should have known men would covet what’s mine and try to challenge me. It’s the nature of the beast, being a giant freak. The little pricks of the world are always trying to take me down.

Keyword: trying.

Any minute now, I’m going to walk over to that table and use one chicken-necked weasel for batting practice. His friends’ heads are going to be the baseballs. Right. Any minute now.

Only problem is, I can’t seem to gather enough willpower to break this kiss with Delilah. I’m keeping one watchful eye trained on my challengers, promising them swift retribution if they make one wrong move, but…

Shit. Her little tongue is sliding along mine, her palms cupping my cheeks, fingertips brushing my scars. Tracing them, even, in a gentle way that forces my violence to ebb against my will. While that tide flows out, another one comes racing in, though. Lust. Pride. She’s…claiming me right here in front of everyone. I might look like hell’s most terrifying monster to them, but I’ve got a tight beauty squirming around on my hungry cockstand that says different.

The men are lowering their guns and watching Delilah kiss me with sick fascination, and shit, fellas, I don’t understand why she wants me, either. But I’m going to be grateful for the rest of my life. I might even start going to church so I can thank God in person for keeping my doll safe while I was gone. For making her look past my scars and seeing a man who’d protect her with his dying breath.

Now that the immediate threat of harm has passed, stopping the kiss is impossible. Audience be damned, I reach under Delilah’s dress and cup her gyrating ass cheeks, using my grip to pull her closer, offer more friction. We both groan over the new, tight rub of her pussy on my rigid fly. Her knees jerk and shake at the sides of my waist, her breath puffing out faster and faster between wet, desperate kisses.

“I don’t like you coming with all these eyes watching,” I rasp against her ear.


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