Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Right now, he was annoyed at the world. He needed to decompress.
He thought whiskey was going to help him do that. Reilly doubted it would. However, she was pretty damn sure he wasn’t only going to be hitting the bottle tonight. He’d also be hitting a joint or smoking a bowl.
Hopefully he wouldn’t go on the prowl to hit up a woman like the one doing her mating dance in the parking lot of the strip mall.
With one look, one crook of his finger, he could probably get most women to drop at his feet. Maybe they wouldn’t want anything more than one night with the biker bad boy, but they’d at least want a little forbidden taste of him.
Maybe he’d be a checkmark on their bucket list.
She’d seen nasty cat fights between female hang-arounds over getting one of the guys to themselves. Usually, whoever it was solved it by disappearing with them both after the nails were retracted and the blood stopped flying.
Someone needed to club her over the head if she ever got to the point that she thought any man was worth fighting over.
When it came to the Fury sisterhood, if any of their ol’ men stepped out of line with another woman, they already made it clear to them, they’d simply walk away. They weren’t putting up with that shit and they also weren’t going to fight another woman over him.
And what did that do?
It kept those men on a short leash without them even being aware of it.
You stray, you pay was the silent code the women followed. And it was damn effective.
No nagging, no arguments and no having to keep tabs on their men. It was an easy and tidy way to keep their relationships loyal and solid. It simply worked.
“Grab your shit,” he grumbled, getting out of the truck and going to the back hatch. When she got out and joined him, he handed her her backpack, the soda and one of the subs.
He grabbed the rest of the stuff, locked up his vehicle and headed to the room on the end.
“Which one is mine?” she asked with her arms full.
He jerked his chin toward the room next door and disappeared inside.
His door slamming shut jerked her into motion and she went to her door, managed to open it without dropping anything and went inside the dark room.
She couldn’t see shit but at least it smelled clean.
She made her way to the bed, dumped everything on it, then went back to close the door, lock it and turn on the lights. Once she did, she turned and noticed something.
Another door on the right.
He’d gotten them adjoining rooms.
She immediately went over and unlocked her side and was faced with a closed door on his. She tried the knob but it was locked. She sighed, closed hers but didn’t bother to lock it since he had a damn key, anyway.
Truthfully, she had no reason to keep him out. If he wanted to come visit her during the night and ravish her, she certainly wasn’t going to push him back out the door.
A whole bunch of hot, sweaty sex and exchange of fluids—besides whiskey—might help release some of the irritability he was struggling with.
They were in Coatesville, PA. Far, far, far from Manning Grove.
No one had to know.
Hell, no one even knew she and Rev were together. In the same town, in the same motel. The two of them knocking boots would just be one more secret in a club full of them.
All they had to do afterward was pretend it never happened.
That could work.
It could.
Couldn’t it?
She stared at the door that connected the two rooms and chewed on her thumbnail.
No. He wanted to be alone. To wallow in his misery. She needed to respect that. He was always telling her she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. And if she pushed her way into his room, she would be proving him right.
“Damn it,” she whispered.
She’d leave the interior door unlocked and she’d let him make the first move, if that was what he wanted.
She glanced at her phone and saw it was only a little after five and way too early to call it a night. She removed her boots, jeans, bra and top and pulled on the comfy silky shorts and camisole set she slept in. Once settled on the bed with pillows propped behind her, she grabbed the remote, found a decent movie, sucked down the bottle of warm generic water that came with the room, and ended up scarfing down the whole ham, cheddar and bacon sub by herself.
After getting up before the crack of dawn and now with a full belly of carbs and processed meats, the movie became a distant memory as sleep pulled at her, dragging her under until it spit her back up hours later.