POET (Death Row Shooters MC Book 2) by Crimson Syn

Author:Crimson Syn [Syn, Crimson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-20T16:00:00+00:00

12

Grace

His hands ran up my thighs, gliding along the contours of my belly and lingering on my breasts. He plucked at the tips, murmuring how he wanted me. Deep rumbles that made my pussy pulse. He was exquisite. Tall and muscular, his tattoos told a story of his life as they moved with him. I traced each one that lined his torso, running my fingers along the inked lettering that spelled out a phrase in Latin.

His kisses burned my flesh, making me cry out as his teeth grazed my sensitive peaks. His hands felt rough and his grunts feral. He was a beast, yet he treated me so carefully.

“Take me,” I begged him. My memory of him slowly fading at the sound of banging.

I grimaced and groaned, pressing a pillow over my head. Such a sweet dream disturbed once again.

“Grace! Grace, we’ve got visitors!”

Frowning, I got myself up and pulled open the door. I must have looked a mess cause Max frowned. “Get dressed. They want to see you.”

My features changed and I went into business mode. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t. Leave them. Alone.” He nodded as I slammed the door shut. They always showed up in the most inopportune times . I was so fucking done with these sons of bitches.

I quickly brushed my teeth, wrapped my hair in a bun, and threw on a t-shirt and some jeans before making my way down to the gym. As soon as I opened the door, there they stood. Snooping around, as if they owned the place.

There had been one stipulation for keeping the gym. I was allowed to stay and run it, but at a cost. What they called, a small fee. Ten thousand dollars a month. I could barely make the rent, let alone cover their damn fee. So I did what any girl would do. I started an underground fighting club. Max thought I was crazy, but it became a lucrative deal. Raw, brutal fights were held in my ring, but I had rules, and if you didn’t follow my rules you were kicked out.

The fights went on every Friday night, and with the money, Max and I were able to pay the fees. Davis ran the bets and put the word out. They knew what to do. All I did was provide the space. Like I said, I’d do anything for this place. Even if it meant selling my soul.

“Ah, there she is!”

I grimaced as Diego El Callejero Muñoz stepped up and gave me a disgusting kiss on the cheek. I folded my arms across my chest, not returning the sentiment.

Smiling smugly, he patted the sides of my arms. “How’s my little money maker today?”

Diego was one of the brothers who ran the Mexican Cartel here in Sacramento. They were greedy, vicious men. All they cared about was their money, and money was one of the greatest evils I’d ever seen. It tore my love away, it killed all I ever knew that was good, and it destroyed decent men.

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