Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 113473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Without closing the door, she practically waddled to the toilet and sat on it, not caring that he stood right there watching her take a piss.
She ripped some toilet paper off the roll and awkwardly wiped between her legs, before reaching behind her, again awkwardly, to flush. “You don’t appreciate things like toilet paper until you don’t have any.”
“What’d they give you?” Her comment might be a good “in” to find out some info.
“Nothing.”
He shouldn’t be surprised. And even though the alcohol running through his system, along with what happened before he got totally fucking blitzed, should keep him on an even keel for a bit, hearing that made his temper wobble again.
He was tempted to help her off the toilet when she struggled, but she managed it on her own and washed her hands.
“Running water, sinks, toilets, I’ll never take them for granted again.”
He struggled to keep his voice even when he asked, “No water, Red?”
She didn’t answer and he stepped backward into the dark hallway when she came his direction, her belly leading the way.
She stopped in front of him, practically toe to toe, tipping her face up to his. “Will you stay?”
His brow dropped low. “Stay? Yeah. I’ll be right on the couch.”
“No. With me. Until I fall asleep.”
“You want that?”
He thought she was going to smile, but she didn’t. It was like she tried but failed. “Yes.”
“Red...”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.”
Christ. For most women, those words were an attempt at mental manipulation. It was anything but for her. She meant them and wasn’t using them to make him feel fucking guilty.
For fuck’s sake, it made him feel guilty, anyway.
“Lemme piss and then I’ll come in for a bit, yeah?”
“If you’re not comfortable...”
She was worried about him? What the fuck. “Red, worried about you not bein’ comfortable.”
“Then, I wouldn’t have asked.”
Yeah. That.
“’Kay, give me a sec to drain the snake.”
Damn, did she snort?
He smiled and shook his head, moving to stand in front of the toilet and doing it in a way she wouldn’t see his back. He flipped up the seat and dug his dick out of his jeans, pointing it.
“Don’t miss. It’s hard for me to clean around the toilet when you do.”
Every day that she woke up in his apartment, more of what he assumed was her true personality was starting to emerge. Not the ghost of a human he rescued in the woods. “Don’t want you on your knees cleanin’ ‘round the toilet, Red. I’ll get a sweet butt to clean, if need be.”
“What’s a sweet butt?”
Oh fuck. “What we call the women who hang around the club.” They did way more than that, but that was all she had to know for now.
“Like groupies.”
“Yeah, sort of like that.” He shook his dick off and tucked it away, his bladder thanking him for the relief.
“The ones who were... doing things... out in front of everyone... Them.”
Shit. He had no fucking clue how much she witnessed after he left the party. If it was like most parties, it was plenty. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Stupid fuck.
She probably didn’t appreciate watching people getting sucked and fucked in front of her. Maybe that was what spurred the nightmare.
“Yeah, them. Most of them were, yeah. Not all, though.” No, it seemed as word spread about the club, more and more women were interested in bagging a tattooed biker for their own. Even if it was only for a night.
Which was usually all it was.
He turned and saw her still standing in the doorway, her eyes on him. He guessed it was only fair she watched him piss like he did her. An audience didn’t bother him, he’d had no privacy in prison. And most of the time when the club was partying in the courtyard, it was just as easy to whip it out and find a spot nearby to empty the tank.
“Wash your hands,” she ordered.
He lifted his gaze to her, fighting his smirk, but he washed his hands.
He wondered just how fiery that redhead was before ending up in the Shirleys’ hands.
After she was tucked back into bed, he stood there, undecided. He normally didn’t sleep in his jeans unless he landed on the couch and passed out drunk, but he also normally didn’t sleep in bed with her, either.
Usually if a woman was in his bed, they were both naked. Or women, since more often than not, he preferred more than one at a time. Especially the first few days after being released from being locked up. After a long dry spell, he was ready for pussy and lots of it.
But right now there was only one woman in his bed and she was one he couldn’t touch. “Gonna shuck my jeans. You okay with that?”
“I don’t have any pants on, either.”