Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“I think we should swing by the strip club and wait to see if we hear any idle chat,” I suggest, wondering if Kara can still work a pole like she used to do when she was ‘working out’ her abs.
“Eve’s not feeling good. Take a few of the guys and do that. I’m going to stay here with her,” he answers.
Kara snorts. “Guess he’s knocked her up.”
I cast a questioning look toward Drex, and he shakes his head at me while eyeing his sister.
“Take her with you. Get her out of here before she climbs the fucking walls or some shit,” he adds before turning and heading toward the stairs.
She pops right up like she’s been given the keys to freedom.
“You’re not going to escape, and if you try—”
“You’ll leave me tied to the bed twenty-four hours a day. Yeah, yeah. I know,” she says over her shoulder as I finish eating and stand.
Axle and Dash are talking with Drex on the stairs, and they give me a nod, signaling they’re coming too.
Drex’s eyes flick over Kara as she walks toward the door like she’s on a mission, and then he glances over at me. A lot gets said without words.
It’s time to put the bait to the test.
My hand moves to the small of Kara’s back, and we walk out front. I let my eyes dip to her ass, checking it out in the tight little shorts she’s wearing.
“Any chance my brother is ever going to acknowledge we have a lot of history to cover outside of wanting Herrin dead?” she drawls as she stands next to my bike.
“None of my business,” I answer as straddle my ride and start pulling on my helmet.
I feel her when she slides in behind me, her legs spreading as she likely pulls on the helmet I have back there.
Her arms slide around my waist when I rev the bike, and I ignore how very fucking distracting it is to have her on the back. It takes me a second to realize I haven’t put the damn thing in gear, so it just sounds like I’m continuously revving.
“Problems getting things started, Rush?” Kara asks from too close to my ear as she presses against my back.
Some things never change.
She squeals a little when I snap us forward with zero finesse, acting like this is my first time driving a motherfucking motorcycle.
I play it off like it was intentional, and her arms tighten around my waist as she leans into me.
Axle rides up on my left, arching a curious eyebrow at me, before taking lead, since that’s his spot instead of mine.
Am I really trying to fucking impress Kara right now with petty shit like running up front?
If she notices, she doesn’t react. Considering the speeds we’re reaching and the pressure against the center of my shoulder blades, I can only assume she has her head buried and can’t see a thing.
Her adrenaline has to be pumping, because high speeds scare the shit out of her. And fear does twisted things to her that I used to benefit from.
My head really needs to clear. My damage is too compatible to her damage. She used to be an endless drug for me.
But times have changed.
Her thighs tighten against my legs, and she squeezes me tighter as I take a turn too fast for her comfort. The second my dick starts being painful, I realize what a fucking rookie I still feel like with Kara Caine on the back of my bike.
Chapter 11
KARA
Girls dancing on poles. Men punching each other for laughs. Girls sucking guys off in corners between sets. Beer sloshing during riotous laughter caused by violent story retellings…
I’m definitely home.
Rush isn’t much of a laughing fella. Neither is Axle. Dash laughs a lot. So does Maya…
I’m not even sure when or how she got here, but she’s sitting in Axle’s lap like she’s a hood ornament. What’s weird is how she seems to work hard to stake her claim on him, side-eyeing any woman who glances at our table.
To be honest, I think the girls are checking out Dash. Rush looks murderous, Axle is scarred on the vast majority of his body and never cracks a grin to soften up his appearance.
Dash is the smiling charmer—by comparison, that is.
Still, Maya glares daggers at any girl who steps too close, while giving them a twisted, slightly horrifying smile. This bitch has to be crazy.
I watch as she pulls him toward the bar with her to get a drink, and Dash slides to the end of the booth to chat up a pretty redhead.
“Okay. I give up. What’s the deal with Maya and Sarah? Who are they?” I ask Rush, finally unable to help myself.
His beer pauses at his lips as he glances down at me, but before he can decide how to respond, a familiar, gut-dropping sound permeates the air with force.