Camden Read online Jessica Gadziala (Henchmen MC #18)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
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"I appreciate it. And believe me, Shane and I will get it out of them," Reign said in a threatening way that made his son look a little pale. "Go clean yourself up, Fallon," he added, jerking his chin toward the hallway, where his son obediently disappeared. "You got a name?"

"Huck," he answered, giving Reign a nod.

"Reign," Reign responded. "After you drop him off, you want to come back here and have a drink?" he asked, making me turn my curious gaze to Cam, then Renny, then West, trying to find an explanation on their faces.

But everyone was too busy sizing up the new guy to show me anything.

"Could always go for a drink. See myself back here in an hour or so, pending no issues with this one's dad."

After he was gone, Reign went right to handle his son, and Cam wrapped an arm around me again, leading me out of the main room, down a hall, then into a room.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, belly tensing at the idea of him getting into more trouble once he was alone with his boss.

"N-no," he said, shaking his head, reaching behind me to slide the lock on the door before grabbing my hand, pulling me with him toward the bed. "H-h-he w-was m-m-m-mad a-a-bout d-disappearing. N-n-no b-big d-d-deal."

"So we can stay here? For a little while? Like when you have to work?"

"I-if y-you are o-okay w-w-with it."

"Totally okay with it. West and I had a good talk. He's exactly how you described him. I can't wait to meet the others. I mean... if that is what might happen. I can just, you know, stay in the room. Keep to myself. Not bug anyone."

"W-w-why w-would y-y-you s-stay in t-the r-r-room?" he asked, brows drawing together as my head ducked a bit. "W-want e-everyone t-t-to m-m-meet y-you."

"Yeah?" I asked, feeling hope swell up inside.

"Y-yeah," he agreed before sealing his lips over mine.

As much as I liked talking with Cam - especially seeing as he was someone who rarely bestowed that gift on anyone - but I liked not talking with him just as much.

By the time he pulled me over his lap, well, I no longer cared about leaving Cape May, about impressing his friends, about apologizing to my clients so they might forgive me and take lessons from me again, or about Thomas finding me.

I didn't even care about the fact that there were only thin walls and a door between us and a bunch of men - and maybe women - that I would need to face again in the near future as my whimpers started to get louder as my hips sank down onto his lap, feeling his hardness pressing into me.

There were times for slow and sweet, long, deep glances, slow exploration.

This, well, this was not one of those times.

My fingers clawed at his cut, at his shirt, sure I heard a tearing as I yanked it over his head and off, needing to feel his warm skin, run my fingertips over his muscles, trace the lines of his scars I had begun not to feel sad about, but oddly thankful for since every one of them represented something he had gone through, something that had made him into the man he was today, a man I was very much falling for, little by little, day by day.

Sensing my urgency, Camden decided to take it in, let me take the lead. I was the one to push him flat on the mattress, reaching to rip off my own shirt before fiddling with my bra. All the while he just lay there, looking up at me, hands settled softly on my hips.

His eyes burned as I reached down, grabbing his hands, putting them over the swells of my breasts, letting my head fall back on a sigh as his fingers sought my nipples, twisting them hard enough for heat to spark off, the pinch of pain, the delicious zing of desire between my thighs.

Impatient, I couldn't let him play for long, forcing his hands away, hopping up, shimmying out of my pants and panties, not giving a single thought to trying to do it in a slow or sexy way, just needing the layers off, just needing access to my body.

Then, of course, to his.

My hands worked free his button and zip, yanking at the waistbands of his boxer briefs and jeans until I got them down, falling around his ankles as I bent forward, running my lips down his neck, the center of his chest, the indent down the center of his belly, following his happy trail until my lips sealed around his cock.

He barely let me work him for a moment or two before his hand sank into my hair, curling, yanking. Hard. Making the pain - a yummy, amazing pain - shoot across my scalp as he pulled me forcefully upward.


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