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)
“Then you’ll be down another task force member,” she warned.
“I’m okay with that.” After putting the bike in gear, he revved the engine one more time and it jerked forward.
She quickly wrapped her arms around his waist and held on for dear life.
Holy shit. Once she found a more permanent residence, the first thing she was doing was heading down to the local Harley dealer, buying her own bike and signing up for a safety class.
She had loved everything about the ride. The wind in her face, the sense of freedom that filled her even though Crew controlled the bike, the way they hugged the winding curves of all the back roads. As well as the speed on the straightaways and highways.
Add in the power between her thighs. Both from the Harley and Crew himself.
At the beginning of the run, Crew had been stiff as hell, most likely because he’d still been annoyed at both her and his daughter. He’d been bested by two females. But after a few miles in, she could feel the tension leave him, even through his leather cut. He leaned back just enough so they were pressed against each other. A few times he had even adjusted her arms to encourage her to tighten them around him.
She didn’t resist because she was no fool.
Since they were riding at the back of the pack, when no one was paying attention, his long fingers would occasionally circle her calf and give it a squeeze.
She wasn’t sure if he was just checking in with her, or if it was more of a possessive gesture.
Either way, she wished he’d done it more.
But his kids were on this ride and even though they were riding ahead of them and not once looked back at their father, it wouldn’t take much for them to do so.
However, the BAMC members couldn’t resist peering back at them whenever they had the chance.
Oh yeah. Crew’s ass was going to be ridden hard by his MC brothers.
After the first two hours, they finally stopped for a break. Both to empty their bladders and fill their guts with ice cream.
Crew sat near his kids, so she gave them space. But it was hard to miss his mirrored sunglasses pointed toward the boy named Beck.
Was it young love? Or young trouble?
Cami sat at an angle where she could study the boy as she licked at her ice cream cone. Beck appeared to be the same age as Chloé but had trouble written all over him. In his expression, in the way he talked, even in the way he moved.
His father, Aiden Cross, also kept an eye on him more than his daughter Bri. Though Bri seemed a bit troubled, too, she didn’t seem to have the same massive chip on her shoulder as her twin.
Also during the break, she introduced herself to the members of the Blue Avengers she didn’t know yet, as well as the rest of the kids. As they chatted, every one of them watched her as closely as she had Beck.
It was to be expected.
She had a quick, but enlightening discussion with Monty about being the only female member of an MC and afterward, Cami was determined now more than ever to join. Women had to stick together.
But Chloé had been right about one thing. Monty was cool.
The whole time Cami talked to the federal corrections officer, Crew’s gaze was glued on her instead of his daughter, like he was worried they were hatching some evil plan.
When they were finally getting back on the road and as Crew handed her his helmet, he asked under his breath, “What were you two discussing?”
“Hairstyles, purses and makeup.”
His mouth gaped a second before he snorted. “Now, I know that’s a fucking lie.”
“Okay, we were discussing you.” They hadn’t discussed him at all. Cami wasn’t the kind of woman who snuck through the rear to find out what she wanted. She had no problem pounding on the front door.
If there was something she wanted to know about the man she’d had sex with, she was going to ask him directly. Then she’d sit back and weigh his words, watch his expressions and evaluate his body language.
Her natural ability to do that made her good at her job.
“What did you find out?” he asked as she finished strapping on the helmet.
“Nothing I didn’t already know,” she answered.
“Monty’s not one to gossip.”
She planted her hand on his shoulder and climbed on behind him. “Then why did you ask?” When he didn’t answer, she continued, “Why do you think I’d ask anyone anything about you? Why do you assume I’m interested in learning more than what I already know?”
“You’re not?”
“Nope. Are you disappointed?”
When he started his Harley, his answering, “No,” got lost in the rumble of his loud exhaust.
And he called her a liar.