7
Harper
Holy. s**t.
I wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Toto. No. I wasn’t even on Zenith. I knew Styx and Blade were wild, but…wow. Not this wild. I shrugged out of Styx’s hold and rose, pacing the room to release some of the pent up tension. I placed the giant stone table between us and watched them as their gazes locked on me. They stood opposite me, bare chests rising and falling with their heavy breaths.
Their chests.
Broad. Hard. Washboard abs. Narrow waists. Tattoos. Not a simple anchor on a pec or even a rose and barbed wire with a name entwined. No. They were covered with black words. Not words. Names. Styx was covered, the entire legion of names written on his perfect skin. Blade’s body held fewer names, as I suspected the rest of the enforcers’ bodies did as well. But on these two
