Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
I nod and nuzzle his ear. I know what he means, because I want this to be my life. “I’ve never felt this at ease with anyone,” I admit, and my heartbeat already accelerates at what I’m about to say. “You’re not just some ‘fuck puppet’, Road. I want this to be more. It already is to me.” My stomach clenches in anticipation of what he could say to that. It’s as if I served him my heart on a platter and now await him to sample it.
His body yields, as if it’s let go of all the tension it’s been holding. Lips, the firmest but somehow also the sweetest I ever tasted, open mine, and he’s on top again, cock straining against my stomach as if he’s ready for another round.
“It’s been more for a while now.”
I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I know deep down that it’s true. That I wait to get my hands on his messages like a lovesick puppy, that I want to cook for him, that I want to tell him about a movie I’ve watched, or warn him about dangers I have no right to tell him about.
“I don’t know how to make this last. But I don’t want it to end either. You’re so much more than I ever expected.” I run my hand over the short hair at the back of his head with tenderness, not just lust.
Road chuckles and shifts so we’re facing one another. I can look into his eyes now. They’re like two pools of molten chocolate.
“We really shot ourselves in the balls with this, didn’t we? You’re everything I like about being around the guys, but then you’re also hot, and you don’t just want me. You need the things I want to give.”
I sigh, stroking his back. He’s so fucking perfect for me. Big butch biker who loves nothing more than to fuck me, and then on top of it, really gets my lifestyle.
We didn’t think this through at all.
“It’s never not gonna be our secret, but… if we could calm down the fuckery between our clubs, things would be so much easier. It’s not unheard of for clubs to make peace or even work together after burying the hatchet. It then wouldn’t be so strange if we pretended to become buddies over time.”
I don’t know what Road is to me, but it would be so much easier to find out if I could invite him to my place sometimes. Even if we had to hide what happens behind closed doors, I’d love for him to be a part of my life instead of a lurking shadow I dive into when possible.
Road rolls onto his back. “We tried that already. But you’re Grizzly’s nephew. Can’t you get through that thick skull?”
I groan and slide my hand over the taut muscles of his stomach. “Road. He won’t let it go. You need to give him the guy. And if it’s Prophet who killed my brother, find a fucking scapegoat. It has to be done.”
He freezes. “The fuck…?”
I grab his face and force him to look into my eyes. “That’s our reality, no matter how ugly. If you want this to work, we need to get serious.” And I want it to work so badly I’d overlook getting the real killer.
He twists away from my hold. “You just asked me to throw one of my brothers to the wolves. I don’t fucking know what you think about your club, but those guys are the only real family I have. And yeah, I’ve been lying, seeing you behind their backs, but I would die for each of them!”
It hurts to hear, but maybe for the wrong reasons. I’m jealous of all of them, because I want to be the most important thing to him. And I’m jealous of Road, because I resent half of the guys at my club even if I’d have their backs if push came to shove. I pull away to grab a cigarette from my jeans on the floor.
“So much for trust,” I say bitterly and light my cig without offering him one. “You know who did it, and you won’t even fucking tell me.”
“It’s not like that.”
“What is it like then?” I squint at him as I take a long drag of smoke. “Our thing always comes second, I guess.” I know it’s bitchy to say that, but I’m feeling real fucking vulnerable after letting him fuck me.
He’s so quiet I can practically hear the grinding of my own teeth as we sit in the bed, my thigh in the damn wet spot again. For all the nice things he’s said, he’s damn ready to shove me to the back of the closet, forgotten until one of us wants to get off again.