Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book One
Recently escaped from the only home she's ever known, Letha moves out to Las Vegas to start a new life away from the people who sought to ruin her. Broke and jobless, with no employers calling her back...
*I'm going to try and keep this under FIFTY CHAPTERS so just be aware the end is near! And I'm pretty sure Hilde Osland (the model I use for Letha) got a boob job. Ignore that. She's still hot though.*
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•Letha•
I stand under the warm spray of water in the shower as I wash away any residual chlorine from the pool. My freshly lightened hair is not happy that I decided to get into that pool.
My mind races back and forth, weighing the pros and cons of telling Blade what is going on.
On the upside, Blade and the club may be able to protect me and Talia. They may be able to get her away from him and they may be able to kill Dmitri without fighting off an angry Russian army.
On the downside, Dmitri is powerful and who knows how many goons he has at his disposal. It's doubtful he's unaccompanied here in Vegas. Also, if I tell Blade and everything goes south and we call Dmitri's bluff, and he isn't bluffing, well then, Talia will lose her life over our stupidity.
My stupidity.
It'll be all my fault if I tell the club and something happens to her.
But can I trust that Dmitri wants me in his possession more than he wants to kill my best friend?
I shake, clutching my arms around myself, shivering under the water that's turned cold.
Turning the dial over all the way, a blast of scalding water pours over my trembling frame.
My eyes close as I lean forward, immersing myself completely under the fountain of hot water.
I wash my body, scrubbing and scrubbing, washing Dmitri away from my skin.
Will he be touching me again soon?
I wince at the thought.
I'm disturbed out of my thoughts when I hear the door to the bathroom slam open and boots pound against the tiled floor.
My eyes pop open in fear, wondering if Dmitri is back for me. If he followed me home from the club somehow.
I frantically search for something, anything to use as a weapon and grab ahold of my razor in the corner and hold it in front of me.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I wipe away the fog from the glass door.
I calm when I see Blade stripping his clothes off, his tanned torso coming into view and easing my nervousness.
His arm muscles ripple with every movement, sending pleasurable shockwaves straight to my core. His spiraling black tattoos never cease to amaze me and I want nothing more than to spend hours naked with him, studying them and asking him every question under the sun about their meaning.
