Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Before I can say those glorious words, she blurts, “I’m pregnant!”
When I pull my car into the parking slot when I get home, my heart is still racing. Hate is pulsing through my veins like a shot of old whiskey from a barrel. I crave to roll up in bed and just listen to my podcast. To the words of this strange, yet gripping woman who has absolutely no manners or fucks to give, but that’s what I want to do. I don’t want to be here, feeling this way.
I push the ignition button and sigh, resting my head back. Luca’s Tesla is parked beside mine, but I know he isn’t home. My phone vibrates in my handbag and I scuffle through to find it. Opening the text, I groan when I see it’s Ma.
“What now?”
Ma - You’re coming to the cookout tomorrow.
Me - No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ma.
Ma - Meraki, are you a weak little bitch, or are you the tough big bitch I raised?
A smile stretches wide across my face.
Me - He doesn’t want me there.
I shove my phone into my bag and make my way up to our apartment. The elevator dings and opens onto the open-plan living area. The lights are off, but there’s a crack of light coming through from the street below.
Dumping my bag onto the counter, I take out my phone and make my way upstairs and grudgingly pull myself through my night routine of hot shower, thick lathers of moisturizers, and plucking my eyebrows.
I plug my phone into the charger, and just before I’m about to slide my eye mask over my face, I see new messages.
I open Ma’s first.
Ma - He does. You know it.
My stomach is instantly heavy and everything I was thinking of before I opened that text flies way over my head. I open the next one.
Luca - Wish you were here…
I ignore him and move to the next one. It’s a number I haven’t saved.
Unknown - What is Ma on about, Mer? And don’t fucking play with me. See you tomorrow night.
I hover over his message. Ma was playing with fire and she damn well knew it. The worst part is that she doesn’t know the worst part. No one does. And that’s a secret that not even Niko will rip out from me.
Me - Don’t know what you’re talking about.
I switch off my phone and slide farther into my bed, closing my eyes and not thinking about a certain biker…
Dense, sugary sponge with thick cream cheese icing. I bite, desperate to taste the notes of the cinnamon I can smell, but my teeth collide with skin. My eyes open onto Luca’s shoulder, his body heavy on top of mine. His tongue travels up my throat and to my mouth as he deepens the kiss. His body rocks against mine, his hand buried in my hair to keep me frozen. I lie spread wide for him as he continues to dive in and out of me, desperate for his catch, when he pulls a pillow over from the side and slips it over my face. My finger twitches as I will myself to slow my breathing. In and out. He drives his cock inside of me harder, picking up the pace as I find it considerably more challenging to take deeper breaths. As I squeeze the walls of my pussy, he stills on top of me and explodes with a loud squeal that’s muffled from the pillow.
Finally, he removes the pillow from my face and I take a deep breath, peering up at him.
“Hey.” I reach for my phone. “What time is it?”
“Nah, uh—” He squeezes the hand that’s reaching for my phone and brings it between us, covering myself. “Touch yourself.”
“Luc, I—”
He licks the rim of my lip. “Touch yourself.”
Dammit. Why is he so horny this morning? I thought he went to the club last night? Fuck. I flick my thumb over my clit as a surge of pleasure rocks through me, reaching all the way to the tips of my toes.
“See… who always knows what you want? Hmmm?” He presses kisses on my neck.
“You,” I whisper, just as he drags my camisole down over my swollen breasts. I bite down on the words that want to rip through me and whisper out my biggest lie of all… “Always you.”
“What’s your plan for today?” I ask Luca when he reaches the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in slacks.
A gold chain hangs off his neck, with a fat chunk of it carved into a cross. He leans into the cupboard, his muscles flexing beneath his white shirt. I sip on my coffee but secretly perve on the meat behind the garment. Luca is hot. He is someone you would most likely look twice at down the street. He’s classically handsome. Wholesome. Clean.