Burning Daylight (A Devil's Cartel MC Series Book 2) by Skyla Madi

Author:Skyla Madi [Madi, Skyla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Limitless Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-10-21T23:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

Y A S M I N E

My heart races as Judge rests his arm along the back of my chair, his firm forearm pressing against my shoulders. My cells are still in a flurry inside me, every fiber in my being still vibrating in the aftermath of our risqué interaction. I don’t know what came over me—or him—but I won’t forget how he felt in my hand for a long, long time.

Across the table, Modo talks, his British accent somehow stronger under the influence of alcohol, and everyone around him erupts with laughter. I haven’t heard the sound in so long, and it’s medicine to my sad, sick soul.

For no reason at all, I peer at James Creed, who relaxes in his chair, his arm around Isabelle, his handsome smile exposing his strong, white teeth. Sensing my attention, Creed flicks his stare to me, then to Judge’s arm along the back of my chair. His full lips quirk at the corner, his dark eyes flashing, and my stomach sinks as heat spreads under the surface of my skin. I avert my gaze to the half empty glass of gin and tonic in front of me.

“And that’s why I don’t eat corn no more,” Modo adds, earning more laughs.

I lift my attention to him—the funny British one with the copper beard. His smile reaches his blue eyes and his cheeks look like they could burst any minute with the amount of smiling he’s done. He thrives off the attention and positivity. Making people laugh made him happy. If his skin were translucent, I bet you could see the gold rays of happiness traveling through his veins. Though rough around the edges, Modo is a handsome man. He’s tall and broad shouldered, and as thick as a man should be. Best of all, I can tell he has a big heart. I don’t believe for a second he stabbed that drunk man in the clavicle with a fork.

A gentle, skittering touch over my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. I turn my head and look at Judge as he caresses my shoulder with his thumb. His slow, perfect circles causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. Speaking of handsome men, whatever is in the Devil Cartel’s water supply needs to be investigated. I’ve never seen such a large group of gorgeous people. I flick my gaze to Judge’s lips as he gently smiles at the conversation and their subtle curve sends my heart bashing through my ribs. It’s genuine. It’s not calculating or cruel and, honestly, I forgot what a real smile on a man looks like.

It melts me.

I place a subtle hand on Judge’s thigh and smooth my palm along his huge chunk of muscle, until the tips of my fingers touch his inner thigh. He glances down at his lap, then meets my eyes, and a million things pass between us.

I want to go to bed.

He wants the same.

But there’s no way we can both

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