Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Shit was finally coming together.
Now, he just needed Stella on board.
Chapter Thirteen
Trip didn’t waste time hauling his ass out of the police station and back to his wrecker. He hated the fact he needed to report each repo job he was doing. But he also didn’t want to get his repo license revoked for not following the law when he just got the fucking thing.
All because of Deacon. Thank fuck.
Even so, he got the fucking willies just standing in the PD’s lobby and talking to the lady at the front desk.
Last time he was in a pig pen, he’d been wearing a pair of metal bracelets that clashed with his outfit.
He also had a busted lip and some broken ribs from when the pigs had kicked the shit out of him. But then, he hadn’t gone willingly. He realized later he was lucky they only tased his ass instead of shooting him.
When he got to the tow truck, he yanked open the door, grabbed his cut and slid it on. He’d flip it inside out once he climbed back in, but for now, he needed a fucking smoke. And fuck the pigs if they didn’t like him representing in their parking lot. They were going to have to get used to seeing those colors around town since the club was growing.
He dug out the tin from the inner pocket, pulled out a hand-rolled and used his H-D Zippo to light it.
After taking a long hit, he leaned against the fender and let the pure tobacco, free of any extra bullshit, fill his lungs, immediately settling his nerves.
Closing his eyes, he let the smoke roll out of his open mouth. The Amish grew some A-plus shit. Now if they only grew some quality bud, he’d be set.
His chuckle was interrupted by a loud, “Ooo. Ooo. Hellooooo there, handsome!”
What the fuck?
His eyes popped open and he saw a man flouncing toward him.
Flouncing.
How the fuck did he even know that word? He shouldn’t, but it defined how the man moved, who was heading in his direction at a fast clip. The man’s narrow hips swung with flair and confidence. He looked to be in his late thirties, wore a huge smile on his face and a predatory look in his eyes.
As he stopped in front of Trip, he raked his gaze up and down Trip’s body and purred, “Fresh meat.”
Trip frowned. That frown deepened when he, whoever the fuck he was, ripped Trip’s baseball cap off his head and ran his fingers through Trip’s hair.
“Yo!” Trip yelled, jerking his head away and snatching his hat back, but before he could tug it back on his head, the man announced, “Hats cause bald spots. They don’t let the scalp breathe. And you going bald would be a sin. You’ve got a great head of hair even though you need a trim. Just the ends. It just so happens I know the perfect fella to do it.”
I bet.
The guy pressed a hand to his own chest and curtsied. “I’m Teddy. I am the proprietor of and extreeeemely gifted hairdresser at Manes on Main.” He did a snipping motion with two fingers, then pointed in Trip’s direction. “And youuuuu are my newest client.” He clapped his hands together and bounced on his toes with way too much excitement.
“I am?”
“Of course,” he read Trip’s name patch, “Trip. Interesting name. Nobody better than me to keep those pretty locks of yours at their best.”
“I do it myself,” Trip informed him, earning him a loud gasp.
Teddy slapped a hand over his mouth and his eyes went wide. “Oh no. Unacceptable.”
Trip tugged his hat back on his head and when he took another deep drag of his cigarette, Teddy leaned even closer, inhaled loudly, then sighed. “Can I bum a hit, handsome?”
For as cheap as he got his hand-rolleds from the Amish, he didn’t mind giving the man a whole one. He dug into his tin, handed one over and lit the cigarette for him. Teddy wrapped his hand around Trip’s as he did so, and the man’s fingers slid over his seductively when Teddy finally released him.
“I’m straight,” Trip felt the sudden need to announce.
“I’m not,” Teddy answered with a wink and a smile. As he took his first long drag, he glanced around the parking lot like he was afraid of being caught. “Don’t tell anyone. I quit. My S.O. doesn’t like me smoking.”
Trip lifted an eyebrow. “S.O.?”
Teddy flapped a hand around in the air. “Significant other, silly. Though, if he finds out, he may give me a good spanking.” He grinned and leaned into Trip again. “He’s really good at that.” Then the man eyeballed Trip again. “You probably are, too.” He sighed. “But, alas, I’m taken.”
On his second slower drag, his eyes rolled back and so did his head. He slowly and sensually let the smoke escape from between his lips. “Holy shit,” Teddy breathed like he just had the best orgasm of his life. “That’s the best thing I’ve had in my mouth in a long time.” After a moment, he lifted his head and curved his hand around the side of his mouth, saying in a loud whisper, “Just don’t tell Adam.” Then he added an exaggerated wink.