Page 2 of Surrender (Angels Halo MC Next Gen)

Wow, a compliment.

Not that it sounded like one. When it came to me, everything was a critique.

I wanted to say no. Pass. To hell with whatever favor she owed. It was her responsibility, not mine. Even though I knew her reasons for not wanting to travel, I still had my own life to live. Selfish, but I couldn’t keep putting it on hold because of everyone else.

I would have held strong if my phone hadn’t buzzed with a notification. My fingers itched to pick it up, see what was going on inside the apartment now that he was home.

His workday was over. He would go straight for the shower. I ached to see him. But I couldn’t with my mom sitting across from me.

My fingers clenched around the beer bottle when Mom’s lips twitched. “Go ahead,myshka. Look.”

“When?” I groused to distract her and myself from whatever was taking place on the live security feed.

Another notification buzzed, causing her to smirk. She knew she had me. “No later than Sunday. It needs to be seamless. Not a single trace left behind.”

“This is the last time,” I warned. “I have plans, and they don’t include that life.”

For a long moment, we had a stare-off. Her intense blue eyes were trying to break me, but I refused to be the first to look away. I was so close to having what I’d been working for. There was no way in hell I was going to let anything get in my way now.

Not even my parents.

Mom finally dipped her chin. “Okay. Do this for me, and I won’t interfere.”

ELIAS

Spreading out the plans on the dining room table, I inspected them slowly. The design was beautifully crafted, each line a work of art. For the next ten minutes, I just stood there, drinking in the beauty.

I didn’t even want to look at the other internship candidates’ submissions.

When my mom had handed me the satchel full of mock-ups from architecture students for our one and only internship spot, she hadn’t listed names or any other details. She knew all of their personal information, but I didn’t choose who would be working with me based on names or school or even gender.

Whoever had the best work was the one who got my unbiased stamp of approval.

Mom had warned me—look at the others before I opened the one on top. But one glance at the exquisite details, and I knew I would have been pissed if I’d wasted time on any of the others when this one was, hands down, the best work I’d ever seen in my life.

At the bottom of the plans was a sticky note with a phone number, along with a brief message written in my mom’s pretty handwriting.

Figured you would want to call and offer the internship after seeing this.

Dropping onto the dining room chair, I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed in the number. It rang four times before a breathy voice answered. “H-hello?”

I slapped my hand down on the tabletop, my cock going rock hard with just that husky greeting. Gritting my teeth, I fought back a groan. That was a first. I was a visual guy. I needed to feast with my eyes to get hard the majority of the time. Watching was more of a turn-on to me than foreplay itself.

That wasn’t to say I didn’t like playing too, but I fucking loved being a voyeur. Watching a woman strip for me, touch herself, get off right in front of me was a delicious kind of tease.

Most times, I didn’t allow myself to get off for days at a time. Sometimes weeks. I let it build until I couldn’t take it any longer.

The anticipation was just as powerful as the actual release.

Whenever I went on a run down to Oakland, I always tried to stop by a club that was invitation-only. None of my MC brothers knew about it, and I worked hard to keep it that way. One visit kept me revved up for weeks. I’d created some of my best work after visiting that secret sexual haven.

But this voice was unexpectedly potent.

I wanted to hear it breathe my name. Hear her whimper as she finger-fucked herself while spread open for me to see all of her secrets.

And then I wanted to make that pussy mine.

Over and over and over again.

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