Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I have no fuckin’ doubt. Get on, the bike will vibrate enough to sort you out for the evening.”
My face flushes. “You’re crude.”
He shrugs and climbs on. I hesitate, looking back at the restaurant where Bjorn is staring out the window at me. I give him an awkward wave, and he shakes his head in disgust and looks away.
He doesn’t believe me.
Of course he doesn’t.
Sexist dick.
I exhale and climb onto the bike, my legs spreading wide as I shuffle closer to Riggs. I swallow down the shame as I feel the heat emanating from between my legs. Awesome. I wonder how long it’ll take for him to feel that against his back. He already does, I’m sure.
“See you’re enjoyin’ it already,” he murmurs and then starts the bike.
I groan.
Shame.
I pull the helmet over my head, to block out the horror, and then, with hesitation, I reach around and take Riggs’ jacket in my hands and he takes off. The second he does, my arms slide around him, unable to do anything else. The feeling of being on the back of this bike is out of this world. I go from tense to relaxed in seconds, and my laughter trails out through the helmet as he goes a little faster.
I can see him smile when I glance into the mirrors, and it makes something inside of me feel funny.
I should have zero attachment to this man, yet I find myself enjoying our time together and our little games far too much.
We ride for a bit, and then Riggs pulls into the parking lot we share and rides right up to my apartment. He stops the bike and I get off, unable to wipe the grin from my face when I pull the helmet off.
“That was kind of fun,” I admit.
“Yeah, it’s fuckin’ great. You ever want to go again, you let me know.”
I hand him back the helmet. “Thanks for the ride.”
He climbs off the bike, too. “I’m not done yet.”
I blink. “What?”
His eyes meet mine. “I’m not fuckin’ done yet.”
“With what?”
He walks toward my apartment. “You.”
Oh.
Oh.
Oh. My. God.
I stare at him, watching as he goes to my door, stops, and turns, looking at me. He wants me to let him in. To do what? Oh, god, is he going to fuck me? I can’t say that would be a bad thing, but I should probably resist.
God dammit.
I don’t know why I’m putting one foot in front of the other right now.
But I am.
I’m walking toward him with the intentions of letting him do whatever it is he’s planning.
Why do I feel like I’ll regret this?
THE SECOND I’M INSIDE and the door is closed and locked behind me, I glance at Riggs who looks around my apartment before turning. His eyes scan over me and, in a rough voice, he orders, “Get undressed.”
I blink.
Say what?
Just like that? Get undressed?
“Ah, what?”
“You heard me, Sparkler. Get undressed.”
“I ... Why?”
His eyes meet mine. “You know exactly why. Do as I ask, or I’ll fuckin’ leave.”
God, why is it turning me on so much that he’s a bossy asshole?
I should be telling him right where to go, and yet I find myself taking the top of my dress and sliding it down over my shoulder, not pulling my eyes from his even once.
He watches, the most intense expression on his face. It’s the kind of look I’ve never been given when undressing for a man before. It’s the look of raw, unfiltered lust and sexual tension. He wants me, and, regardless of anything, I’m surprised by that. He wants me in a way I don’t think I’ve ever been wanted before. Nobody has ever looked at me like that, so I’m sure of it.
I slip my dress over my shoulders and then slide it down and kick it off. I’m left standing in my lacy bra and panties, and I feel ... uncomfortable. I can’t help it. I’m body confident, I am, but I’ve seen the girls he’s with. They have the kind of bodies that you see in magazines. I can’t compare to that, I can’t even come close. I put my arm across my chest in a moment of weakness.
“Do not cover your fuckin’ body up, Evelina. Drop your arm. Now.”
I do as he asks.
“Now, finish getting undressed.”
He shrugs his jacket off and puts it on the sofa as he watches me reach around and unclip my bra. God, I’m terrified and yet the ache between my legs is so very real.
He’s doing things to me I simply haven’t felt before.
“Why do you want to do this?” I ask, hesitating. “You can’t stand me.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, I fuck beautiful women. Does it need to be any more complicated than that?”
He thinks I’m beautiful?
Eeep.
I let my bra fall and my breasts drop, bouncing slightly. I have big breasts, not massive enough that they cause problems, but well and truly full enough that they fill out a bra with no problems.