Grind (Wrong Side of the Tracks #4) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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“It smells like strawberries! But it’s bitter! You said it’s not like soap.” Jag gave Ezra a suspicious frown through the thin, damp sheet, but sat back down.

While Ezra’s first encounters with Jag had been tense, he was beginning to understand him better, and with that, became more at ease with the guy. It seemed he was a bit like a domesticated wolf, so as long as he got treats, and no one hurt his pack, he was perfectly harmless.

And, frankly, Ezra wouldn’t mind becoming a temporary member of that exclusive club. At least while the issue with Paul remained a concern. “It’s also a cosmetic, but it won’t wash your face. It’ll make your skin nicer. See?” Ezra asked, leaning close, so Jag could see his complexion in more detail.

Before he could flinch, Jag put his rough fingers against his cheek with raised eyebrows. “It’s so smooth. I once found this bag, and it was so soft, just like that.”

Ezra let out an awkward laugh and pulled away, sitting on the floor across from Jag. “What kind of bag was that?”

Without all his armor, mask, or goggles, Jag didn’t look half as dangerous. Especially with a sheet mask that kept shifting because he couldn’t keep his face from moving. “It had to be some kind of leather. I thought it was really nice, so I gave it to Dane, but he said it was a ladies’ bag.”

Dane would have been here if he wasn’t working at his important remote IT job, so Ezra smiled and had a sip of magnesium water. “I’m sure he’ll like touching your soft skin.”

“You think? He does say he likes my scruff.” Jag held his hands up to his face but stopped himself from touching the mask in the last second. “I guess there’s the places on my face where it doesn’t grow. Should I use a mask on my fingers?”

Ezra’s gaze fell to the big, rough hands with thick nails that were a tiny bit too long. “Um… well, you could start using a paste with sugar to remove dead skin cells and regularly hydrate with a special cream. I’m sure Dane could get both those things for you.”

Jag watched his hands in amazement as if he saw them for the first time. “I have dead skin? Can you write down the names of the creams? He can read very well.”

Dane was the kind of person Ezra would expect to get together with another nerd so they could go on comic convention dates every year, but Jag, who had a trim body and a face cameras would have loved, had nothing but adoration for him. It was cute. In an unexpected way.

“Everyone has dead skin. It just usually falls off in tiny bits so you don’t notice. And yeah, your boyfriend—”

“My mate,” Jag corrected with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

“—your mate is very smart. I will write it down for him.”

Jag startled and jumped to his feet seconds before Ezra heard a truck engine, but then he calmed down without even looking out of the window. “It’s just Frank.”

Ezra peeled the mask off his own face. “How do you know?”

Jag shook his head. “His truck has this little sputter every now and then.”

This guy was so bizarre, and Ezra couldn’t help but love it about him. Now that Jag guarded him, Ezra rather liked that he could be such a scary presence when he wanted. But more importantly, Frank was back with Ezra’s stuff, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on both.

“I think your guard shift is over,” he told Jag and rose, heading for the kitchen. He picked up a box containing half the little egg wraps he’d made earlier and offered it to Jag. “For you and Dane.”

The brilliant smile on Jag’s face warmed Ezra’s heart. He’d never cooked for his acquaintances, too worried they’d snub his work for their favorite luxury restaurants instead, but Jag couldn’t be happier when he got the box and held it with reverence.

“Oooh! Dane will love this! Thank you.”

Just as Ezra leaned over to peel the mask off Jag’s face, Frank came in with Shane, each holding two large duffel bags.

“You ladies were having a little spa session?” Shane asked, dumping his luggage on the floor while Frank walked all the way to the sofa before placing the bags he was carrying there.

Ezra wanted to give him a hug right away, but there was a tension in the way he carried himself, and his face was like a mask of steel.

Jag shrugged. “I don’t know what that is, but we did face masks, and now my skin is softer than a ladies’ leather bag.”

Shane laughed and patted Jag’s face. “It is!”

"Ezra says Dane will like it,” Jag boasted, tossing his shaggy mane.

“You want to see him quick? I could give you a lift,” Shane said, but despite him and Jag being so loud, Ezra’s attention wouldn’t stray from the tall, broad-shouldered figure standing still only a few paces away. There was something off about Frank tonight, and it made Ezra’s heart thump louder, as if it was pumping too much blood at once.


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