He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses.
When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets...
it's been awhile besties...smut? this is the chapter you have all been waiting for.
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"Is he tied up tight enough?" Grayson had been thrown in the trunk of Harry's car. It was a tight fit, but we shoved him in there, gagged and all tied up. He was beat, Harry made sure of that the second he spit in my direction after I told him to cry me a river. Bad move on his part, but he never was the sharpest tool in the shed.
"It will leave bruises on his wrists I'm sure of it." Harry nods his head in assurance, leaning his back against the left side backseat door of his black car. He looked so fucking sexy right now, dressed in all black, a bit of blood on his knuckles, a bag of money in his jacket.
Who knew I'd be in love with someone in the drug cartel?
"Good. I can't fucking believe that he was the one stalking us." I scratch the back of my neck, still a bit confused by the whole situation and trying to wrap my head around it. We planned to take Grayson to the warehouse and drop him at Jason's feet who was clearly behind everything. But that didn't explain the lipstick on Harry's old apartment mirror.
What was Grayson? A hitman? A stalker? An assassin?
Things weren't exactly adding up yet, but I'm sure we were going to be finding out soon.
"You were so fucking hot demanding shit. Fuckin' loved seeing you take control." He murmurs, his smirk turning upward in a casual way. His eyes deepened their color of green. He crossed his arms, his toned muscles being seen even through his clothing. He really was a dream, wasn't he?
"Yeah? You liked that?" My own smirk forms, my feet carrying me slowly towards him. He waits for me patiently, an expecting look on his face. My hands meet his chest, raking up the clothing he had on. The clothing he could've died in if this mission had gone wrong.
"Hell yeah. You yelling at that fuckface could have me hard for days." He jokes, rolling his eyes and nodding his head toward the trunk where Grayson laid beaten and tied up until he was immobile.
"The way you tied him up though." I shook my head slowly, my lips still formed into a soft smile. You'll have to teach me that sometime." I muse, his head widening and hands once again for the millionth time today, finding my waist.
It was where his hands belonged, on me. Touching me.
"Yeah? Who are you gonna be tying up with rope?" He asks softly, his voice volume lowering. His lips ghost the skin of my cheek as he leans down to whisper in my ear. His hair tickled the side of my cheek like it always does when it softly brushes my skin.
"I can think of some people." I whisper back in response, my body now flush against his. I can feel the effect I have on him already starting to grow. How I've missed the feeling of him, and it's only been merely hours without us completely connected.
