Page 6 of Dead Bled Ringer
“Fuck, you're so hot.”
My spine stiffened, and my fingers suddenly froze.
Since when did Henry like those? I had never heard him do anything but bitch about my extra rolls.
My fingers, still heavy with my orgasm, tightened on his dark shirt and I pulled, the lines of rippling muscles appearing under the bright sparkle of my massive diamond wedding band.
He twisted around to stop me, but it was too late.
I had seen the dark, dangerous lines of the tattoo, the angry slashes that made up the dead-white skull.
Blinking in dismay, my stomach sunk in disbelief.
Holy fuck
This wasn’t my beloved husband at all.
It was his identical twin brother, Hunter.
Chapter Two
HUNTER
Earlier that morning. . .
“What do you want?” I asked my brother as I stepped into the dark room.
Henry sat at the massive black wood desk, the lights of downtown glinting in the glass window behind him.
“Can you not track mud into the office?” he asked coldly, his fingers clicking rapidly across the keyboard.
I looked down at my boots.
“I just got off a 10 hour shift at the body shop. You said this was urgent. So what the fuck is going on?”
Henry flicked his eyes up to me, leaning back in his leather chair and tapping his fingers together.
“I don’t think I quite like your tone, brother. Fix your mouth when you speak to me and start again.”
Anger flared through me, and I kicked viciously at the base of his chair, sending it spinning and knocking my twin across the room.
“Cut with the bullshit. Tell me what you want or I’ll go.”
Henry snarled, his tall body framed for a moment in the huge glass window as he adjusted his silk tie.
“You’ll regret that, brother.”
Then he lunged at me, but I was ready for him, clocking my twin on the jaw so he staggered back into the wall with a crash.
I worked day-in and day-out as a mechanic and although we were almost identical in height and size, I was just a bit stronger, quicker, and more powerful than he was.
Always had been.
He swung at me, but I ducked, kicking savagely out and landing a satisfying blow with my filthy boot down his expensive pant legs.
Henry connected with my ribs, but my other fist landed on his mouth.
“You’re soft,” I taunted, my fists still up as he grabbed his chair to keep upright. “All this time sitting on your ass at a desk.”
