Vik (Shot Callers #2) Read Online Belle Aurora

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Shot Callers Series by Belle Aurora
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Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 151304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
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I stilled completely.

Uh, what in the freaking shit?

Goddammit. Annoyed, my lips thinned.

Okay. Who was it? Which one of these fuckers did it?

With pursed lips and a gut full of anger, I scanned my surroundings to find the culprit.

My eyes passed over Mina, the most likely perpetrator.

She winked at me, swaying to the music, dancing without a care.

Hmmm. No.

When I peered at Cora, she licked her lips invitingly, then blew me a kiss, bopping along to the song.

Okay. Not her.

Anika, dancing off-beat to a song only she could hear, didn’t even look like she could operate her phone at the moment.

Definitely not.

And then it hit me with the force of a knee to the gut. My eyes shot upward to the VIP section, and when I saw Nik and Max exchange a chin jerk with the three dark, looming men who just entered the club, my jaw tightened.

Bingo.

Putting my hands to my hips, my mouth gaped at their disloyal, traitorous selves, and as though my cousins could feel my gaze burning holes into them, they both looked down at me at the very same time. The second they saw my furious expression, they panicked.

While Max ducked out of sight, Nik scrambled, pointed toward a corner of the club, suddenly rambling as if he’d been in conversation the entire time. It took him a minute to realize his brother abandoned him, and when he finally noticed, he did a double-take at the empty spot next to him.

My brow rose in question.

Knowing he was had, he pinched the bridge of his nose before looking down at me apologetically and mouthing, “I’m sorry.”

Sure, you are, you big jerk.

Our girls’ night was officially over.

6

Nastasia

The car stopped in front of my house, and I stumbled my tipsy ass out, making my way around to help Anika out at the very same the Vik did. We reached for the door simultaneously, our fingers brushing, and when I pulled back as though I’d been zapped, his stoic stare landed on me with the weight of a building, and it did not have the desired effect.

I think it was meant to be cautionary. But damn. It was kind of sexy.

My core clenched with longing, and I was a little pissed—at myself, mostly. I was also buzzed in a really mellow way.

Astoundingly, the night didn’t end when Vik and my brothers got to The White Rabbit. I expected a scene. I didn’t get one. I predicted the cold fury of my brothers. That didn’t happen. And when the guys simply acknowledged us, then took a seat at the bar, it somehow felt more foreboding than if they just approached us and ordered us home.

My brothers—both looking flawless in suits—sat while Vik, dressed in black fitted jeans and a navy shirt unbuttoned one too many buttons, revealing the dove taking flight inked onto his broad chest—simply stood with his back to the bar, his eternally hooded gaze watching us closely.

My stomach dipped. I wanted to climb him like a tree and take a bite of his banana.

Ugh. Unfair.

The girls were having a good time, and I was not ready for the night to be over. Surely, they could be reasonable. I had my doubts, but I was willing to try for the sake of our girls’ night.

On edge and anticipating a fight, I tramped over to them, leaving the girls on the dance floor. Three sets of impassive eyes trained on me, and I rushed out an irritated, “It wasn’t a big deal. I took care of it.”

Sasha, unfazed by my anger, lifted a brow and spoke evenly, “I know. We heard.”

Whatever I was going to follow up with left my vocabulary.

Okay, then.

Confusion coated my voice. “Then why are you here?”

Drinks were placed in front of them. Lev responded, “We thought you might like an escort home.”

Ah-ha! I knew it.

Hackles rising, I hastily cried, “We’re not ready to leave yet!”

And when Lev blinked at me, then responded, “All right. We’ll wait,” my balloon, full to the point of bursting, was let go, air rushing out as my exasperation quelled.

Right. Good.

I was winning. Why did this feel wrong?

Unsure of this entire situation, my shoulders fell, and I uttered, quiet and hesitant, “You didn’t have to come. I’m not drinking. I’ve got this.”

Vik was having none of my attitude. “We didn’t have to come. We wanted to.” When my insecure expression met his cool one, I paused, and he went on. “I know you’re more than capable of looking after your own ass.” The statement was placating in the same way a cool stream of water soothed a mild burn. He looked me up and down, an appreciative hint to his gaze. “But I’m happy to watch it too, kiska.”

Kiska.

Kitten.

The grin he ended on made my entire torso turn to jelly.

Oh no. He was doing that thing I liked. The thing that made me want to throw myself onto the floor in cow pose and look back at him invitingly.


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