Curly (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #1) Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter Series by Lilly Atlas
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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“All right,” he said once she was all set. Finally, he gave her a lopsided grin. The first genuine smile since he’d walked into her house. “You look cute as hell.” After flicking her on the nose, he swung a thick muscular leg over the seat of his bike, leaving her standing there feeling like a teenage girl on her first date with the coolest guy in school.

Not a date.

Not a date.

As long as she kept repeating that, she’d be good. This was nothing more than her doing him a favor on a bad day. Least she could do to repay him for saving her bacon more than once.

And for that stellar orgasm.

“So what do I do?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

“Just climb aboard and hang on tight.” He pointed toward what looked like pegs sticking out from the sides of the bike. “You can rest your feet there. Just relax and enjoy. Let your body follow mine when we lean into turns. You’ll get a feel for it in a few minutes. And you’ll love it.”

She eyed the bike until he burst out laughing.

“How about a bet?”

Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “A bet?”

“Uh, huh.I If you do not love it by the time we hit the restaurant, lunch is on me. If you fucking love it, you’re buying.”

Well, that certainly went a long way toward making her feel like it wasn’t a date. “You’re on,” she said, holding out a hand. He shook it then tugged her to him.

“Brooke?”

“Y-yes?” she asked as his musky, slightly leathery scent made her shiver.

“Get on the bike.”

“Right.” She did as asked, lightly placing her hands on his sides. Even that was too much physical contact. But when he grabbed her wrists and pulled her flush against his back, her eyes rolled back in her head. The warmth of the Florida sun had nothing on the heat radiating off this man.

“Right there, babe,” he said, as he rooted her hands against his obscenely rippled stomach.

Oh, Lord.

“Ready to ride?”

“Let’s do it,” she said with more enthusiasm than she felt. This day was going to wreak havoc on her mental fortitude.

Curly let out a loud whoop before he revved the engine, making her jump, then laugh. Already he appeared in a better mood for just having sat his ass on his bike.

Beneath her, the bike rumbled, and between her legs, the man did the same. She held tight, maybe too tight, but falling off wasn’t on her agenda for the day. Blowing out a breath, she tried her damnedest to ignore the way his muscular back felt beneath her breasts. And the perfect fit of his ass between her spread legs. She pretended he didn’t smell like the ocean and sunshine wrapped in a woodsy blanket because if she did smell it, she might lean forward and bite him.

This ride might kill her in a different way than she’d been expecting.

Twenty minutes into the ride, Brooke conceded she’d be buying lunch, and she was totally cool with admitting her defeat. This was one of the best experiences she’d had in years, if ever. And she one hundred percent understood why Curly craved this when his head felt scrambled. She could sum it up in one word.

Freedom.

The open air. The ability to smell, feel, see, and be a part of the world as they traveled through it. Nothing holding them back. No one lording over them. Every sense felt heightened as she inhaled the salty air, absorbed the combination of sun and wind on her skin, soaked up the delicious heat from Curly, and listened to the engine purr.

The rest of the world faded away, and though they didn’t try to speak, she’d never felt more connected to another person. An ease entered her soul she hadn’t experience in years. Well over an hour passed before he finally pulled into the parking lot of what could only be described as a shack. A sign boasted the best fried grouper sandwich in Florida, and that was saying something of the state’s specialty.

“Well?” Curly called over his shoulder after he killed the engine.

She wasn’t even a bit mad about losing the bet. Grinning so wide her cheeks hurt, she said, “Guess lunch is on me today.”

Laughing, he climbed off the bike. His face held an ease and joy, which was the opposite of the tension he’d worn when he showed up at her house. “Nah,” he said with a wink. “My invite, my treat. Besides, I knew you’d love it, so it was an unfair bet.”

Brooke opened her mouth to argue with him, but he stole the words with a quick but hard kiss. As she sat there stunned, he removed her helmet and extended a hand. “Let’s go. I’m starved. Something about being near the water always makes me hungry.”


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