Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
My heart rate quickened at the sound of that familiar term falling from his lips. I had noticed he never called any of the other women that name. Almost as if he reserved it solely for me.
Stupidly, it made me feel special. Special to him. And fuck, I needed to feel special to someone.
“Don’t want to be out here, River, then go on inside,” I snapped at him. I needed to work on this bike. Keeping my hands and mind busy was vital to my sanity.
If I didn’t, I was going to self-destruct.
He sighed, opening the fridge in the garage and grabbing a beer. “I can’t leave you out here, darlin’. You know that. Strict instructions from the president himself,” he reminded me, though he sounded sour about following orders. River had always struck me as the kind of man that ran by his own book. It always shocked me that he was a member of a club and not its president.
I looked up at him. “You ever thought about telling your president to shove his fucking commands up his ass?” I questioned seriously.
River barked out a laugh, his blue eyes glinting with humor. “Numerous times, darlin’, but that’s not something you do if you don’t want a damn good ass beating to remind you of your place.”
I snorted. “You ever get sick of playing babysitter?”
He shrugged. “Zyla got on my nerves a lot,” he confessed, “but you’re a breath of fresh air, darlin’.”
My breath hitched in my throat at his words. I sat back on my heels and let my eyes run over the man in front of me. River wasn’t really a looker. He was rugged, not as handsome as Joey or Tristan, but there was something about him that drew me in and made me crave him. Neatly trimmed scruff lined his jaw and around his lips, and his dark hair was shoved back on his head, needing a haircut. Tattoos littered his skin, not leaving a single part of him bare.
I couldn’t deny that I was attracted to River, that I wanted to be his in some kind of way. It was fucked up. I loved Joey. I even loved Tristan. Yet, there I was, falling for yet another man.
I was a fucking mess.
I knew River had to be from somewhere in the south because of his southern accent, and he wore flannels better than any other man there, Tristan included. Tattoos swirled over his skin, disappearing under the sleeves of his flannel only to reappear back on his neck. He was broad-shouldered, and his arms flexed with each movement he made.
Why the fuck hadn’t I made a move on him before?
Because right then, I wanted him. Fucking badly. I wanted him to claim me as his, but I knew that would be asking too much from him. I’d never seen River show any real interest in a woman.
But I would have him in any way that I could.
“River, you got an old lady?” I asked him as I grabbed a wrench from the floor, yanking my eyes from him.
“Nah. Tried that once. She divorced me six months after we got married.” He didn’t seem bothered by it though.
“That’s got to suck,” I commented as I continued taking the bike apart.
I saw him shrug from the corner of my eye. “It was five years ago, darlin’. I’m over it.”
I stood up, deciding to take a chance. Fuck it. The worst that River could do was deny me. But I wanted someone to distract me from the shit my life had become. Someone that wasn’t Tristan.
I wanted that someone to be River. If I could have this with him, I would take it. He’d shown me kindness. Shown me what it was liked to truly be cared about.
Not in the fucked-up way Joey did.
Not in the tainted way that Tristan did.
I walked over to River, swallowing nervously as I did so. He only watched me, and his blue eyes didn’t give anything away. It was a little nerve-wracking, but I didn’t let his lack of emotion stop me. “Want to do me a favor?” I asked him, stopping when I was a couple of feet in front of him.
He tilted his head to the side the tiniest bit as he studied me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Depends on the favor, darlin’.”
“Make me forget?” I quietly asked him.
His eyes softened all while they blazed with a lustful heat that made my nerve endings curl. Understanding passed over his features, and I knew right then that he wouldn’t turn me away.
He wanted this, too.
“You trying to get me in trouble, girly?” he huskily asked me as he set his beer on the toolbox next to him.
“No one has to know,” I told him. “It can be a secret.”