Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Serves her right. She’s trouble, this one, and she’s dragging my brother into it with her.
“Where to?” I ask when we get down to Cave Hills.
“5th and Davidson.” She attempts to pry her own hands from me, but I gun the bike, and she seizes me again.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she accuses, balling her fists up in the front of my shirt.
She knows what’s up. I guess to be a car thief, you’d have to be pretty smart. Or else pretty dumb. But she doesn’t strike me as dumb. I saw enough wariness on her face when she was talking to Winslow to know she understands the risks.
I take her to 5th and Davidson. “Now where?”
I half expect her to just get off and not show me where she lives, but she gives me directions to her house. Turns out she doesn’t live in one of the many million-dollar homes that make up the wealthy community north of Scottsdale. She’s in a townhouse—a nice one—but not that big.
“Right here,” she says, pointing. She swings her long leg off the bike and tries to unbuckle the helmet with shaking fingers.
“What’s the story with the Porsche?” I ask her point-blank, watching her fumble and not offering my help this time.
I know Winslow isn’t going to tell me, and I’m looking for confirmation.
“It’s my dad’s,” she says. “He’s out of town, and I put a dent in it. Your brother said he’d help me fix it without him finding out.”
“I didn’t see a dent.”
“He already fixed it. Now it just needs a little paint.” She tears at the straps of the helmet, like I’m holding her hostage with them. “Your brother said he’d get fixed by tomorrow.”
Yeah, right. Total bullshit, of course.
She manages to get it unclasped and yanks the helmet off, tossing out her long thick hair.
I don’t want to be stunned by how gorgeous she is up close. I’m looking for some flaw. Some irregularity that can make me dismiss her. But even the large mole on her cheek looks like it was put there just to make her more tempting to guys. Or girls who like girls. Or yeah, pretty much anyone with a pulse.
She doesn’t look like she belongs in high school. This girl has probably been frequenting college parties since the day she hit puberty. She’s all that.
And I can’t fucking stand her for it.
“Thanks for the ride, Bo.” She thrusts the helmet at me.
“I didn’t catch your name.” I ignore the helmet. She seems to be in a huge hurry to get away, and I’m not going to make it easy for her.
“I didn’t throw it.” She nudges my belly with the helmet, and when I still ignore it, she lets it go and turns on her heel.
I stoop to catch it before it hits the ground. “You don’t have to be cunt,” I call out after her. Not because I think she is one—although I’m not ruling it out—I say it more to see if it gets a rise out of her.
It does.
She whirls, her face flushing. “Nice,” she nods, walking backward. “Real nice.”
I grin because seeing her mad gets my dick hard. “I don’t do nice. See you tomorrow, I guess? Will her highness require a pick up?”
I’m watching for a flush or proof of her lie, but she’s too good for that. She just flips me the bird as she turns around and unlocks the front door.
Definitely trouble, that one.
And there won’t be any talking to Winslow about it. Or stopping him.
I commit her house number to memory. If anything happens to Winslow as a result of this bullshit, I will come down here and rip that entitled Cave Hills bitch apart.
Right after I put her on her knees in front of my open fly.
Chapter 2
Bo
“The moon is almost full, gents,” Coach Jamison preaches in the locker room after practice. We get this lecture every month, and after four years, I can pretty much recite it.
But still—I know it’s important shit—especially for the freshmen who are still in the throes of puberty.
“Lock yourselves in your rooms before the game and after the pack run. Do not go anywhere near a female, or” —he holds his hands up— “a male, if that’s your interest. I’m not judging.”
He paces through the locker room as we filter out of the showers wrapped in towels to stand at our lockers and get dressed. “You boys have raging hormones. You are not safe for the community at large. The moon amplifies your need. It makes you too aggressive. Jack off before the game—I don’t want that much testosterone running through you when we play Lakeside. I can’t risk one of you breaking a human’s neck.
“And other than jacking your own cocks, you will keep it zippered. I’m not going to warn you to use condoms because you will not be getting your dicks wet this weekend.