Tartlet (Turf Wars #4) Read Online Bella Jewel

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Turf Wars Series by Bella Jewel
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 63139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
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I grind my teeth together.

I can’t afford to live on my own. I’m trying, really I am, that’s what the job is about but after I got myself into trouble recently, I was left with nothing. No savings. No chance at getting myself a place. Hell, the car I drive is my father’s. Without it, I have nothing. He knows that. I know that. It’ll take me another few months at least to get enough saved to get myself a car and maybe find a place.

Maybe.

“What’s this stupid ass ball anyway?” I say in defeat. “When is it?”

“It’s Saturday night. That gives you time to tell your little biker friends who you are before they find out. We can’t have them losing trust in you yet.”

Great.

Sounds wonderful.

I’m sure they’ll treat me really well when they find out what family I come from.

I exhale, shaking my head and walking to my room. I close the door, and my eyes, pretending for just one second that I’m somewhere else, anywhere else but here.

My phone pings, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glance over to see Remy’s name flash on the screen. I walk over, picking it up, knowing I have to answer whatever he has text because I promised.

R – I’ve got a deep bath. Want you in it. When can you be here?

I exhale. Sounds tempting, oh does it sound tempting, but I don’t feel like going anywhere right now. I want to look more into Constance, find out what I can. It’s consuming my mind right about now.

G – I’m stuck at home tonight, sorry. The bath sounds good though ...

R – I’ll come to you then.

Oh sure, come here, that won’t be awkward at all.

Now is my chance to tell him who I am, though. Very casually. It’s the perfect opportunity.

G – Don’t think you and my dad would get along.

My phone rings, and with a sigh, I pick it up.

“You live with your parents?” Remy asks.

“My father, and yes. I don’t have much choice. Can’t afford anything else until you start paying me for the hard work I’m doing.”

“You’re getting paid this week. Why won’t I get along with your old man?”

“Nobody gets along with my old man. Nobody.”

“Care to share?”

“Nothing to share.”

“Is there a reason nobody likes him?”

“You’re full of questions,” I mutter.

“Answer them then.”

“Yes, there is a reason. You know some of my family, actually. My sweet sister, Becky.”

He goes silent for a minute. “Fuck, the one Beckett was riding?”

I snort. “Trust me, nobody rides Becky. She’s not the type to be ... ridden.”

“You’re Cujo’s daughter?”

My father’s name is not Cujo, but because of our last name, Cutter, and his first name being John, that’s what he’s been called since the beginning of time. I don’t know anyone who calls him anything different.

“That’s the one,” I say casually. “You and Daddy Dearest friends?”

Remy snorts. “Don’t have much interaction with him, but you’re right, nobody fuckin’ likes him.”

I laugh. “I told you.”

“How the fuck did I not know you’re the daughter of the richest man in town?”

“Because as far as they’re concerned, I’m not part of the family. I’m the rebel, I suppose you could say. I’m only here because I have to be; as soon as I can afford it, I’m out.”

Well.

That went well.

He hasn’t questioned a single part of it yet.

“Tell Daddy to buy you a place.”

“He doesn’t like me that much, he has far more control when I’m here. Maybe if I had my nose up his ass like my other two siblings then I’d get somewhere.”

Remy chuckles. “Can’t imagine you’d ever stoop that low.”

“You’d be right.”

“Tell me why we’re still talkin’ and you’re not in my bath right now, with my cock deep in you?”

His voice is husky, and I shiver.

“Because I’m in my pajamas and I don’t feel like driving.”

“Go wait outside, leave the pajamas, I’ll be there in five.”

He hangs up.

Ah.

Not giving me the chance to say no.

Clever.

I exhale, run a brush through my hair, leave the pajamas on, and walk out the front of our massive house and wait outside the gates. A few minutes later, the rumble of a motorcycle can be heard. I’m wearing flip flops. I can’t get on a damned motorcycle. I stare as he pulls up, looking so god damned good it makes me really want to take him right here on the bike.

“I’m wearing flip flops,” I tell him. “And shorts.”

“It’s up the road, put a helmet on, you’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure that’s safe.”

“Babe, get on.”

He hands me a helmet, and I stare at the big, rumbling bike. It does look fun. Fuck it, if I lose a toe, I lose a toe. I get on the bike, sitting behind him and wrapping my arms around his massive body. It feels nice, the rumbling beneath me, his hard frame against mine. I lean in a little, breathing in the scent of him. No jacket, just a shirt that hugs his muscles, he looks incredible and he smells even better.


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