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)
Should I get to the point and tell him that we’re leaving this spot? Hug… him…? Just like with kissing, it feels strange to be affectionate with the man I fought several times, who stabbed me, and who surely hates my guts beyond the surface of lust.
Most of all though, I’m a member of an outlaw MC. I’m fucking confident. I hate not knowing what to do with him, but when he walks toward me, my head’s empty as a dusty vase left somewhere in the attic. I remember the way he casually threw a knife at our road captain earlier, how he walked toward us with confidence that made a group of men part for him. When his gaze pins mine, I know my knees would have spread wider if I were sitting.
I’m supposed to say something witty, show that this isn’t affecting me all that much, but then he pushes his fingers into the hair at the back of my head and leans in.
My thoughts are fuzzy, my heart leaps, and my dick is already getting hard, but I realize what he’s doing just as his lips are about to press against mine.
I told him I won’t be kissing him.
Even if I kinda want to.
In the very last second, I manage to turn my head. I’m not trying to escape him altogether and rub my cheek against his, but there are limits to what I’m offering. Now that he broke the barrier between us, I find it much easier to wrap my arms around his waist. I smile to myself while he can’t see my face.
From afar, we might look like two people reuniting after years apart, but this is about the physical contact. Getting to hold him. My only experience with hugging men is related to the camaraderie shared with my club brothers, but nothing beyond that. Seconds pass, until it lasts way longer than any other hug in my life, but he doesn’t seem eager to pull away either and rests his chin on top of my head, as if wanting to remind me that he’s a bit taller.
Overcome by the fragrance he carries, rich and sharp like the danger he stands for, I barely hear it when he speaks. “I assume you have a place in mind?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, then clear my throat and repeat it in a normal voice. I step back, reluctantly letting go of him. After a moment of hesitation, I run my hand over his super short buzz cut. It’s such a thrill to touch him however I want to, and I bet that’s what he feels too. That I’m available to him in a silent understanding. He doesn’t have to dance around it, and neither do I. “The spot is extremely private, but secret. Put this over your eyes, and I’ll take you on my bike.” I present him with a black bandana he can use as a blindfold.
When he doesn’t immediately take it, my stomach sinks.
“No way,” he tells me, pulling away from my arms with a twist to his lips.
“Why not? You wanna do this or not?” My instinct is to always bristle in conflict to force my will, but Road isn’t any better and snorts.
“You think I’m stupid, or something? You want me to leave my ride behind, let you blindfold me, and then take me to some cellar, where all your buddies are already waiting for blood?”
I hum in frustration. He’s wrong. Of course. I want to take him to my secret spot where I can get naked with him, but I see why he might worry. Especially after today.
“Embarrassed to ride on the bitch seat? You’d get to press against my ass,” I try in hopes that a different angle might work.
Road snorts and taps the underside of my chin. It’s barely a lick of his fingers, but something about the way he does it, as if I’m an insolent brat in need of chastising, makes my knees weaken. “You demand a lot of trust without offering any to me, Blue Eyes.”
I don’t know if he’s being patronizing or cocky, but I don’t hate it. For once, I don’t have to fight for every scrap of social standing, like I do around my brothers.
“Okay, fine. But if you tell anyone about this place, I will kill you. Do we have an understanding?”
His dark gaze meets mine, and he offers me his hand. Something about this gesture feels reassuring, because he’s not being playful. If we shake on it, his lips will remain sealed.
With all too much air stuck in my lungs, I squeeze his fingers, but before I can withdraw, he pulls my hand to his lips and tucks his large nose into my palm.
I’m so out of my fucking depth with him. He’s voracious and only gives proof to that when he licks my hand like some hungry beast. His hot wet tongue makes my insides flutter, and a long sigh leaves my lips as I watch him, mesmerized.