Page 19 of Outlaw
I keep that bit to myself, savoring the mixture of mint and nicotine on my tongue.
“Well,” she says, popping her freshly scrubbed face out of the now half-open door with a mischievous grin. “Maybe you weren’t raised by wolves after all.”
Wolves, no.
Badass outlaws and rulebreakers, yes.
Cindy included.
It’s true. Cindy’s fierce. Ruthless when she wants to be. And her rage has no limits. She still demands respect now, even though she’s the old lady of a dead President. Sometimes I have to remind her of that, to put her in her place.
The creek of the door draws my attention. Sabrina looks completely different without makeup. Younger. Happier. Still sexy as hell. I must have something to do with those vibes she’s putting out there for me to pick up.
“You good?”
I take a deep breath, which is the wrong thing to do because I catch a whiff of our scents mixed together on my clothes. Woodsy floral and musk. A clear image of her naked figure in my bed. Or her ass bent over the side as I pound into her from behind, both of my hands grasping her perky, perfect breasts. The giggle she’ll make when I slap her ass.
Sabrina. Hot. Wet. Calling my name.
She probably shouldn’t have opened the door. My first instinct is to push her back into the bedroom and tie her down on the bed. I take two huge steps forward and we’re inches apart before it registers that I’m the one approaching her. She looks up at me with a questioning look on her face, eyes wide, and her lovely lips slightly part until she takes a step back again.
“What is…this…” she stutters.
I don’t have a chance to answer her, or do anything else for that matter.
A loud rumble bursts through the clubhouse, making the whole foundation quake and undulate beneath our feet.
What the fuck?
An explosion?
We’re both jolted forward. Following my instincts, I drag her down to the carpet, covering her small body with mine as a shield. Sharp staccato bursts of shattering glass coming from somewhere on the compound make my ears ring. Shrill screams come from downstairs.
“Oh God…” she cries out beneath me. “This can’t be happening already.”
