Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“He’d have to be supervised for that,” Cabrera happily told her. “We had to unplug the stove so he didn’t leave it on unattended.”
The waitress aww’d in sympathy. “We all get to that point where we’re forgetful.”
“It’s unfortunate.” Cabrera shot a smirk across the table at him.
“Well, you can take the check up to the register when you’re ready. And if you need anything else, just yell.”
“Thank you,” he muttered.
The waitress patted his shoulder. “Getting old stinks, doesn’t it?” With that, she spun on her heels and left them alone.
“Make sure you don’t choke on that steak,” he warned.
She laughed. “You don’t know the Heimlich?”
He shook his head. “I forgot how to do it. You know, since I’m old and forgetful.”
They managed to finish their lukewarm breakfasts without any further food flying or verbal jabs since their mouths were busy eating.
After paying the bill, he followed her outside.
Since his Harley was parked near the entrance, he paused and watched her walk to the far end of the lot where she parked her Audi. Most likely to avoid door dings since the lot was now filling up with hungry early risers.
He watched her ass rock and roll in those skintight fake leather pants.
If he was smart, he’d let her go.
He sighed. Apparently, he wasn’t.
He called out, “Hey, Cabrera!”
She stopped halfway to her car and glanced back over her shoulder at him.
“Just how tired are you?”
Because, yes, he was a fucking dumbass who hadn’t gotten enough of her abuse yet.
But then, apparently that was his kink.
Chapter Nineteen
Since Fletch’s house was on the way to his condo, they went there. Plus, he wasn’t sure he wanted her to know just how close he lived. Yet.
His guarded, gated community was only about two blocks away. Fletch actually bought his house after driving by it on his way to Crew’s place one night.
She pulled her Audi into the garage while he parked his Harley in the driveway and ducked into the garage before she shut the door.
“I need to let Murphy out. And I really should take a shower. These pants made me sweat and my hair absorbed every damn smell in that bar last night.”
“Shower sounds good,” he murmured, following her deeper into the house, since he planned on joining her.
They were greeted by the big gray galoot. The dog whined when he saw Cabrera and his tail wagged lazily as he lumbered over to her for a head scratch.
“C’mon, Murph,” she called, heading toward the back door.
Crew waited in the kitchen while she went out back with the Irish Wolfhound. But it wasn’t long before they came back into the house.
“All good?” he asked.
“Yes, I—”
He didn’t even give her a chance to finish her thought before he tackled her.
“What—”
Once he got a good grip, he tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
“Crew!” she shrieked.
As he hoofed it through the kitchen, he ignored her complaints, as well as Murphy hopping around and releasing deep woofs, thinking it was playtime.
It was.
Just not with him.
As he carried her into the bedroom, it drilled home the fact of how petite the woman was.
And she was going head-to-head with big, burly bikers every night.
That did not relieve his worry.
Instead of tossing her on the bed, he set her on her feet. But before she could move, he snagged her wrist, sat on the edge of the mattress and yanked her so hard, she lost her balance.
He used that advantage to pull her across his lap face down, ass up.
“What are you doing?”
“Into spanking, are you?” She looked too fucking good across his lap.
“I was kidding,” she insisted.
“I don’t think you were.”
“I swear! I’ve never been spanked before!”
And it showed.
“Always a first time,” he said.
“I was kidding, Crew.”
She might have been kidding but he wasn’t holding her down and she wasn’t trying to climb off his lap. She was simply lying over his thighs, occasionally squirming. He tried to read her expression, but her face was hidden by the fall of her long, dark hair.
“Oh, now it’s Crew? You’re not brave enough to call me Daddy right now?” He skimmed his palms over her perfect ass cheeks covered in the black, smooth fabric.
“That would be weird,” she admitted.
“No fucking shit. I’ve been saying that. And, of course, you didn’t listen. That’s a bad habit, Cami.”
“Oh, now it’s Cami?”
“It feels weird calling you Cabrera when I’m about to spank your ass.”
“You wouldn’t.” She squirmed again.
For fuck’s sake, she actually needed to stop moving like that against his erection. “You’re not the only one who likes a challenge. Now the question is, do I spank you with these tight pants on or do I do it against bare flesh?”
She lifted her head, but he still couldn’t see her face. “Are you asking my opinion?”
“No. I’m considering my options.”
“Can I suggest something?”