Wolf (Black Angels MC Book 2) by Fisher A.E

Author:Fisher, A.E. [Fisher, A.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Young Ink Press
Published: 2017-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Anna

I woke up a few hours later with my property jacket draped over my shoulders, alone and naked on Wolf’s bed. I looked up, my ass twinging, and saw that Wolf’s clothes were gone. I also noticed that my skin was clean and figured Wolf must have wiped me down after I passed out and went back to the party .

Fucks me in the ass and then leaves me all alone .

Bastard .

I sighed—my annoyance short-lived because I knew he was probably dragged back to the party—and stretched, probing the feeling in my ass and determining that, despite being a little sore, it was manageable. I looked around the room, seeing the normal duffle bag of clothes I usually left on the chair in the corner was gone. It took me about five minutes of rooting around before I found my clothes hung on one side of Wolf’s wardrobe .

My heart felt funny, which I promptly squashed—it was just wardrobe space, for God’s sake—and pulled free a pair of comfy leggings and a long shirt. My boots were on the bottom, which Wolf must have also taken off me after my amazing new experience, and I put them back on .

I was about to leave the room when I saw my property jacket laid on the bed. It’s too late to back out now, I thought to myself, grabbing the damn thing and putting it on, pretending to hate the way my back straightened with pride before stepping out into the clubroom .

The room was still filled wall to wall with people, and when I checked the clock, I realized that I had only slept an hour or two at the most, meaning the party was in full swing .

I felt like I was snaking endlessly in and out of people, and yet, my search for Wolf came to no avail. I did find Julia, however, who was having her fun with Jax as he dragged her upstairs to his bedroom. I hoped she wasn’t using my game with Wolf earlier as a reference to thinking Jax’s kind of kink would be fun. There was an extreme level of difference between handcuffs and Jax’s S &M .

I would have laughed at the thought if a sudden dose of cold beer hadn’t hit me. I spun, furious that the beer was dripping over the leather of my jacket, and turned on the assailant .

“Shit, babe,” the guy gasped, blue-green eyes looking down at the damage he’d done. “I’m so sorry about your jacket. Here, you can use mine if you’re cold,” he said, pulling off his denim jacket, revealing a curling snake tattoo reaching up to his forearm, bright red eyes glaring back at me as he held the gray jacket out toward me .

It took a second for my guard to go up. This party was only for club members and affiliates, and yet this guy had just poured his beer over my property jacket and treated it like a minor mistake.

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