Redemption: Mr. Dream-cember by Jessika Klide

Redemption: Mr. Dream-cember by Jessika Klide

Author:Jessika Klide [Klide, Jessika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-22T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Eight

Laura

I barely hear the little jingle of the bells that hang on the door handle ringing as someone enters the pizza place.

I nod, “Let’s go back to my place.”

Zane stretches his leg out to retrieve his money clip, and I can’t help but notice his substantial boner silhouetted under the tight, soft fabric of his distressed jeans.

Yes, please!

Blake calls from the back. "Merry Christmas. I’m shutting down the ovens. I’m not serving anymore.”

He rolls a few bills off and slides them under the pizza plate. “I’ll need to make a detour to drop Batman with a friend.”

He slides to the end of the seat, and I am close behind him.

Suddenly, he stops, staring at the front, stiff, alert.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

His left-hand waves me to slide back over, while his right hand reaches behind his back, under his shirt, and pulls out a pistol.

Damn! This isn’t good.

I slide back in and wait, watching him, watch them. My ears are amped up and tuned in.

Blake is whistling in the kitchen unaware of what Zane is seeing. He slides very slowly back to me, careful not to draw attention to us.

I know my face shows how scared I am, but I can’t help it. I am fucking scared. Zane’s big ass gun means big ass trouble.

When he is shielded by the booth, he looks at me. I can feel my eyes bugging out of my head, and my heart is beating so fast and so loud, I am afraid he can hear it.

A fleeting smirk flashes over his face at my expression, then he puts his forefinger to his lips, and I nod so hard, my curls bounce off my tits. I know normally that would get a reaction from him, but not right now.

Right now, he has flipped a switch and has become a badass.

He holds up two fingers, and I nod hard again.

There are two of them.

He points for me to get under the table.

I nod hard again.

He leans out to get a look, and I shift to slide under the table. His hand juts out and clamps my arm with a viselike grip.

I freeze.

He mouths the words and indicates with his eyes, ‘Wait till I leave.’

I nod hard again and wait, watching him watch them. Every detail is burned into my brain.

Zane’s black hair is thick on top and faded to a buzz on the sides. He hasn’t shaved in a few days, and his black scruff is heavy. His blue eyes are honed in like a hawk, and his strong black brows frown with focus. The thick veins in his neck bulge. The tension in his body has every muscle flexed, and I can see them clearly straining against the dark grey fabric of his t-shirt.

I didn’t pay attention before, but the picture on the front is of a 1776 American flag with rifles forming the stripes. The caption reads, “When tyranny becomes law, rebellion becomes duty.” Thomas Jefferson.

Blake’s whistling stops and Zane eases out of the booth.



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