Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“We’ll keep an ear out,” Tucker added.
“Bottom line for now, Di and her dad are good,” Eight stated.
“You goin’ back to Denver?” Hugger asked him.
“Linus is already headed up there, tomorrow Muzz and me will too. Roscoe is going with us. We got this house until the end of the month, so apparently, Georgie and Archie are coming down for the weekend before the Black brothers head back.”
That’d be good, Di could meet them.
“So this is done,” Hugger summed up.
“For now,” Eight said.
Yeah.
For now.
But he’d take that with knowing Di was safe.
The rest, they’d see.
After talking to her dad to let him know all was good with Babić, Hugger saw her enter her bedroom.
He was stretched out in her bed with a book he pulled from her shelf (Mother Daughter Murder Night, sounded up his alley, even if he’d never been a reader—he was trying new things, and since Di had a big bookshelf filled with books in her living room, he’d helped himself).
He watched her walk to him in her tight cropped tee and loose drawstring shorts.
He quickly put the book aside as she collapsed on top of him.
“Your dad good?” he asked.
She nodded. “He wants to throw a pool party on Saturday, since Georgie and Archie will be here.”
Hugger hadn’t owned a pair of swimming trunks since he was at least eight.
“I’ll have to warn Dutch and Arch so the women can pack suits.”
“Okay.”
“And we’ll have to go out and get me some trunks.”
She grinned at the idea of shopping. “Okay.”
He dug his fingers into the hems of her shorts and up into her panties. “Why the fuck you put on pajamas?”
Di assumed a fake severe expression. “Excuse me, Harlan ‘Hugger’ McCain, you have the wrong impression about me. I am not easy.”
That was when he grinned, flipped her to the back and proved her wrong.
Hugger was doing Di on all fours, curled over her, one hand to the bed, one hand between her legs, finger to her clit.
And he was almost there, so she needed to fucking get there.
On that thought, her head, which had been bent, flashed back, slammed into his shoulder, her soft hair coasting all over his face and tangling in his beard, making his balls draw up in warning, and she came…loud.
Thank fucking God.
He glided his finger away, wrapped his arm around her hips, held her stationary for his thrusts, and eventually shoved his face in her neck, shot his load, and as usual with Diana, he did it hard.
He was still using condoms. She had a doctor’s appointment the next week. He had one the week after up in Denver.
He cruised slow inside her as he lost the hard, then pulled out, kissed her shoulder, lifted up, gently pushed her to her side in the bed, and he left her there, flicking the covers over her as he moved to get rid of the rubber.
When he got back, he stretched out beside her, and she snuggled close.
“That gig was bizarre, babe,” he declared.
She started laughing.
“I nearly fell asleep,” he went on.
She kept laughing.
Fuck, but he loved to make her laugh.
She looked up at him. “So the ambient jam is not your style?”
It was late night Saturday. They’d gone to Charlie’s gig that night, and they’d done it not only with Mel and her man Gerard (who seemed a decent dude, more so when Mel had to elbow him because he actually did fall asleep), Bernie, as well as Dutch, Georgie, Jagger and Archie.
Dutch and Jagger kept shooting him What the fuck? looks through the whole thing.
Georgie appeared to be near laughter through the whole thing.
Archie seemed to dig it, or at least she pretended a lot better than the rest of them that she didn’t think it was as totally whacked as it was.
“No,” he answered Diana’s question.
“You don’t have to go again,” she told him.
“You go to all of them?”
She nodded.
Of course she did.
“They don’t happen very often,” she explained, “because, I mean…obviously, they don’t have a big following and there aren’t a lot of venues longing to have a band that will put their clientele to sleep.”
He had noticed not many tables in that bar were filled, and some had emptied after Charlie and her crew got started.
“Charlie doesn’t care, she just likes to play,” Di continued.
“How often do gigs happen?”
“Maybe once every couple of months. They go up to Sedona and Flag to play more than they do here. Sometimes we go, because those places are fun to hang in. Sometimes we don’t.”
“We’ll see when it happens again.”
She gave him a soft look, stroked his beard and changed the subject.
“I like Georgie and Archie. They’re both totally rad.”
His lips tipped up. “They’re definitely…rad.”
She stopped stroking his beard to slap his pec and demanded, “Don’t give me shit.”
Hugger smiled fully.
Warmth hit her eyes as she watched him do it, but he felt her mood shift.