Death Layer (The Depraved Club)

Cover Death Layer (The Depraved Club)
His thighs and, yes, the bulge of his crotch, are right in my face. Can’t say it’s the worst way to wake up, but it draws a sharp gasp from me.
“Ow,” I groan. It’s my new favorite word because literally everything hurts.
Bane looks down and displays that lopsided, cold grin.
“Good evening, princess,” he grunts. “Having second thoughts?”
He chuckles and does a playful hip thrust in my direction that almost makes me laugh. There’s no end to this clown’s confidence. Or arrogance.
“How can I ever f
...orgive myself,” I mutter.
Bane arches his eyebrows. “I don’t care for your sarcastic tone, Red. It stings just like a boner with no release. Anyway, time to get up.
It’s party time again and you’re going back to the clubhouse. We’re gonna play it cool like nothing happened last night. Nobody else finds out about your little date with the drainpipe or my little stakeout in the alley. Got it?”
“Fine,” I sigh, rubbing my chewed-up wrists.
Bane’s eyes narrow as he sweeps an inspecting gaze over my body.
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