Rebel Read online Helen Hardt (Wolfes of Manhattan #1)

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Wolfes of Manhattan Series by Helen Hardt
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 81407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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“Do you want to wash your face?” I asked.

“Too tired.” She took off her blazer and hung it over a chair. Then she turned to me, her cheeks red. “I’m going to get undressed now.”

I chuckled. “If I see anything I haven’t seen before, I’ll scream.”

“Not funny. Get out.”

“Seriously? Lace, I’m trying to help you here.”

“I am perfectly capable of undressing and putting on pajamas without your help.”

I sighed. “Fine.” I stepped outside the room.

About ten minutes passed. I sneaked back into the room, only to find her prone on her bed, topless, but her skirt and hose still on, snoring softly. I smiled and eased them off of her, leaving her only in her undies. Then I covered her, tucking the sheets around her gorgeous body.

I ought to get a medal for this. But strangely, as beautiful and enticing as she was, I still had no desire to take advantage of her. Odd.

I left the room, leaving the door open just a crack. Then I walked to the door of the apartment to leave.

“Crap,” I said out loud as I looked at the door. I didn’t have a key, and if I left, I’d have to leave the deadbolt unlocked. I knew enough about New York to know that was never a good idea. I could take Lacey’s key, but what if she didn’t have another?

No way was I leaving her unprotected.

I sighed, eyeing her living room. Her brocade couch looked mildly comfortable. Good thing, because that was clearly where I’d be spending the night. A crocheted afghan was folded on a nearby recliner. Hmm. That might be a better place to sleep. I removed my shoes, jeans, and shirt and settled in, pulling the afghan over me.

Sunlight streamed in through a window, waking me. For a moment I was disoriented. Where was I? Then I realized, as I cracked my neck. Lacey’s living room. Her recliner. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned. I felt good. I’d slept strangely well for being on a recliner all night. I checked my wrist. Six a.m. Lacey would probably be up soon.

I stood and pulled my jeans on and then made my way into her small kitchen. A coffeemaker sat on the countertop. I ground some beans and started a pot, and then I looked around for something to make her for breakfast. She’d no doubt be achy and tired and still a little nauseated. Maybe just a piece of toast and some scrambled eggs. I got what I needed out of the refrigerator and began, when Lacey walked in, wearing nothing but her lacy red panties.

Her tits looked luscious, and her hair was a mass of unruly waves. She didn’t seem to notice me at first as she ambled toward the coffeemaker and grabbed the carafe, nearly dropping it.

“Easy.” I eased it out of her hands.

She jumped, nearly losing her footing. I steadied her.

“Why are you here?” She rubbed her temples. “Oh, God. We didn’t…”

“No. We didn’t. No offense, honey, but you weren’t in any shape to do much of anything.”

She looked down and clasped her arms over her chest. Too bad to cover up such great tits.

“Nice try, but I’ve seen them before.”

“Just…leave, please, Rock.”

“After I just made you a breakfast of champions? That’s no way to treat me.”

“I never asked you to—”

“Hey. There was no way for me to leave and to lock your deadbolt, so I stayed.”

“Where did you…” She rubbed her temples again. “God. My head.”

“In the recliner.”

She eyed me. “You look so…”

She was staring at me like I was a side of prime beef. I couldn’t help flexing my pecs just a little.

Then she turned around and ran back into her room.

Maybe I didn’t look so great after all.

I set two plates on her small table and poured myself a cup of black coffee. The only way to drink it. After I cleaned my plate and she hadn’t returned, I stood and walked into her room to check on her.

The bathroom door was shut. I knocked softly. “Baby? You all right?”

“Fine. Just go, please.”

“You need some breakfast.”

“Not hungry.”

“It will make you feel better.

“Ugh. No, it won’t.”

“How about some strong coffee?”

“No. Please. Just go.”

I didn’t want to leave her alone, but what choice did I have? It was daylight now, so I didn’t feel quite as bad about leaving her without deadbolting her door. She had a regular lock as well.

I went back out to the living room to gather my clothes, when my phone buzzed against my thigh.

26

Lacey

I wasn’t nauseated. Just embarrassed with a hammering headache.

He looked like a god standing in my kitchen, spatula in hand, with nothing on but wrinkled jeans.

He’d been a perfect gentleman last night, which went against what I assumed to be his nature.

Maybe I was wrong about him.


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