Three years, we’d been playing our little game. Pretending I was too quick to be caught and he was too slow to catch me. Pretending the tension between us wasn’t there. Pretending I wasn’t interested. He was a stubborn, misogynistic bastard.
And he fit me perfectly.
The only problem was that a man like Wolf wanted everything. Everything I didn’t want to give. We both had our past—pasts we weren’t ready to face, commitments we weren’t ready to make.
But we didn’t get to make that decision, because our pasts were alive, and when they came for us, I found that there was only one thing left for me to do.
It was time for me to face the wolf.
From the second she strutted into my club, put a knife to my balls, and demanded I make her my lawyer, she got more than just a job. She got my balls handed to her on a silver platter. Because I knew I had to have her.
But shadows hung between us, and whenever I took one step closer, she took one step back. She was my prey, but every time I had her in my claws, she slipped out just in time, and I pretended it wasn’t my mistake.
But I was done letting her escape. My past taught me to protect what’s mine, and when shadows surfaced, threatening to destroy not just my club and principles but everything between us, I knew the game was over.
She was mine.
And it was about time I showed her.
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Writing books had been a big part of my life for many years; whether it was writing in secret notebooks during class, writing amateur novels or posting stories online, I surrounded myself with it.
Of course, it has its up and downs, but I’ve never once thought that writing wasn’t for me.
Because of that, I can share the worlds I discover in my head with the outside world, and although that might sound crazy to some, it’s fine by me. So long as I can do what I love, I’m happy.
And every person who’s happy as a result of my writing is a bonus for which, I’m forever grateful for.
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My hands had paused on Soul’s hips, her white hair flipping over her shoulder as she’d turned to the sound of the voice.
I’d almost looked straight past her, the small, only just five-foot woman with the full rack that stood behind me. Baby blue eyes narrowed in a harsh glare, short, spiky blond hair styled in a way that clashed hard with the two-piece dress suit she was wearing. She looked familiar somehow, but then again, I’d faced a lot of girls.
“I think you’re in the wrong place, Myshka,” I growled, wanting to get back to the skinny, twenty-something girl practically whining to take my dick.
“I don’t think so,” she growled back, undeterred by my cold welcome, her eyebrow rising as she jabbed her finger over her shoulder to where the door was. “You’re the new president, right? I heard you’re looking for a lawyer.”
“Yeah?” I sighed, my once appreciative gaze of her curvy figure now turning into a flat glare. “You here to give a suggestion.”
“Yep,” she popped, her red lips raking over each other. “You’re looking at her.”
I scoffed, my flat mouth turning into a smirk as I looked at the confidence radiating from her baby blue eyes. She was serious. “Babe,” I chuckled, pushing Soul off my lap as I rose up from my seat. My height dwarfed her tiny size, even more so than I’d thought, and as my shadow loomed over her, I only saw her glare harden on me. Her reaction to what I said next made sure her eyes weren’t the only thing to harden. “Ain’t no woman going to be a club lawyer, babe. If you wanna play with the big boys, then try parking that ass on my lap, and we’ll play.”
The girl's hand lunged faster and higher than her reach, wrapping around the collar of my shirt and dragging my tall height down to her level as she shoved her lips against mine. Her red lips forced mine open, her tongue tangling with mine, doing a thing with her tongue that sent shivers down to my dick, making it rise to attention. Heat stirred inside me as I decided it was my turn, but I never got a chance. A sharp sting radiated down my lip as my mouth swelled with the metallic taste of blood.
The blonde pulled back, her tongue running along her lips as, without letting her eyes leave mine, she said, “I play dirty, you fat bastard, and I let no man tell me what to do. So you’re going to hire me as your lawyer, and you're going to take it with a bucket of salt before I unman you in front of all your boys.”
I had no idea what she meant until I felt the thin prick of the tiny blade against the bulge of my jeans. “You’re playing a dangerous game here, girl,” I growled.
“It’s Anna.” She smirked. “Remember it this time.”
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