Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
He’d not taken his bike, but his car as it was cold as fuck.
The moment he drove down the street, he saw her. There was no one around. It was close to ten o’clock. With other chapters arriving, he had no choice but to be there with Smokey to welcome them, and to keep his appearance until the booze started to flow in abundance. That hadn’t taken long.
The guys arrived at seven, the real partying started at eight, and most of them were too drunk to notice him let alone question where he was going and what he was doing. Smokey had already told him they were not going to talk shop until tomorrow. He had tonight all to himself.
Slowing the car down, he saw Harlow’s arms were wrapped around her body, but she looked at him before climbing inside. The moment she was seated, he flicked the lock of the car in place and pulled away.
There was still a layer of snow on the roads. Gritters and snowplows had already done the rounds, but there had been a fresh layer of snow on the ground. He took it steady, not in a rush to get killed on the roads. The Twisted Bastards MC were still a threat as far as he was concerned, so he kept his eyes peeled. He wore his leather cut. No one was ever going to make him take his cut off. The club—the cut—was his life.
He was bound to their ways and nothing and no one was going to change it or stop it. The scent of vanilla filled the car. He could never quite put his finger on Harlow’s scent as she tended to change it every few months. There was a time he was pretty sure she smelled like cinnamon muffins. He didn’t know if it was her perfume or because of something she baked.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” Harlow said.
“Why not?”
“I saw all the bikes entering town. A family meet-up?” Harlow asked.
“You could say that.” He took them out of town and headed toward his private house. He’d bought the place as a private investment. The club knew about his home, but he rarely went there long term. Every now and again, he’d let a couple of the club pussy clean the place, but he’d stand and watch as they worked for him. He’d always liked to keep his private life exactly that.
The sluts at the club were only interested in winning one of the brothers, of making their place as an “old lady.” Before Smokey got rid of the older pussy that had served the club before the shit went bad with Ava, they had known there was no chance of ever winning him.
Hunter was loyal to the club. Pussy came and went. He didn’t see a reason to fall for one, especially when there was so much on offer. He’d always liked variety, so no woman should get attached to him, and if they even tried, he did what he could to distance himself.
When the time came with Harlow, he was going to have to hurt her. He didn’t want it to end that way, so he planned to make it clear for her.
His place was in one of the nicest parts of town. The street had started with only half a dozen houses, but planning permission had been accepted to extend with more houses. It was considered one of the draws of Fort Clover, but as far as Hunter was concerned, it was just a money-making scheme. The contractors and current developers didn’t give a shit about the town. They wanted a way to make money fast and this was their only solution. Hunter had bought his place cheap when it was nothing more than a patch of land, and then made them build it exactly how he wanted it.
Pulling up to his main gate, he wound his window down and reached out to type in the code.
He couldn’t help but smile when he recalled the fear in the developers’ eyes when they clearly wanted to deny him. The last thing they wanted was for a rough and evil biker to suddenly bring the street cred down. They couldn’t argue with money, and he also happened to have a good lawyer. With the club at his back, they couldn’t stop him.
“This is your place?”
He was surprised how little Harlow had spoken to him on the way over.
“Yeah.”
“You can afford a place like this?” Harlow asked.
“It’s an investment.”
“It’s a damn good one.” She gave a whistle. “Wow. If Mom and Dad saw something like this for my brother, I think they would forgive him anything.”
“Your parents are into material shit?”
Harlow shrugged and made some kind of “eh” noise. “They would tell you no, and in their own way they wouldn’t be lying, but it does matter to them to a certain extent. They do like to … dress things up. Although they also claim to be concerned about family and stuff like that.”