Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 91438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Mostly because I felt the bite of his teeth on my shoulder before he pulled the towel free of my grip and cleaned my ass off.
“I think it’s at the bottom of the shower. We’ll have to get it tomorrow,” he said, tossing the towel down onto the ground and helping me stand.
I turned in his arms and wrapped my arms around his shoulder as the siren continued to wail around us.
“We should get out of this apartment,” I told him.
“Hmm,” he agreed, walking me to my bedroom.
I felt, what I guessed was a T-shirt, hit me in the face, followed by a pair of shorts.
Slipping them both on, I waited for him to finish.
When he did, his hand was once again in mine, and we were walking down the back entrance that led to Dallas’ garage.
“Have you been here before?” I asked in surprise.
How was he able to do this without any light?
“No, but I have good night vision, and I was here for about an hour before you got here,” he admitted.
That made sense.
Obviously, he didn’t sit on his ass while he’d been here.
Silas wasn’t the type to do that.
I had doubts that he even slept since whenever I saw him he was either standing, fucking me or had just finished fucking me.
“Ah,” I said. “Do you think there’s really a tornado?”
He squeezed my shoulder. “They wouldn’t have turned the sirens on if they didn’t have a real reason to. False alarms tend to piss off the masses.”
My heart fell.
Although tornados weren’t really a ‘new’ thing for me, they weren’t something I’d had to worry about the past eight years.
However, where I lived now was an area that the weathermen referred to as ‘Tornado Alley.’
There was even a whole season that was devoted to the storms that usually produce them.
When those sirens went off, we had been taught from a young age to immediately seek shelter in a windowless room.
Texas didn’t have underground tornado shelters like they did in other areas along Tornado Alley.
The soil was too dense to dig through.
The shattering of glass had my head whipping around, but it was Silas’ arms that circled around me, lifting me off my feet, that had my heart beating a mile a minute.
“What was that?” I gasped, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Hail,” he answered, setting me on top of what I guessed was my brother’s workbench.
Should’ve worn shoes, I thought to myself.
“Stay there while I run and get your shoes,” he muttered as I heard his boots going back upstairs.
I stayed there on that bench, looking out of what I assumed was the broken window.
It was getting pretty bad out.
The garage around me was shaking, and I had the hysterical thought that Dallas better have insurance on it, because it wouldn’t surprise me if the whole thing blew away with me inside.
Then the horrid thoughts of whether Dallas’ prized Nova being ruined by a possible tornado would affect him more than it would if I was hurt.
But Silas’ return jolted me out of my bad thoughts.
“I found some rain boots, figured they would be better,” Silas said.
I thought about what rain boots he could be talking about and decided they were probably ones I hadn’t worn in over ten years.
I wasn’t sure if they’d even fit.
But when Silas easily slipped socks over my feet and then helped me get my boots on, I realized that they, surprisingly, did.
Pretty well, too.
“You have a flashlight, don’t you?” I accused.
He snorted. “Yeah, what man doesn’t?”
I thought about it. “My father and brothers don’t carry them.”
I felt him lean into me causing my unbound, t-shirt clad breasts to rub up against his leather vest.
I hummed in contentment as I snuggled into his arms.
“I like your vest.”
“It’s called a cut,” he muttered laughingly.
“What’s a cut?” I asked.
The storm was getting worse. The rain was slapping against the roof and the side of the garage in sheets, and the sound of the hail bouncing off the house in a loud succession of pops echoed through the space.
“A leather vest,” he quipped.
I giggled against his chest, turning my face so it could rest against his neck.
He growled when I kissed his exposed throat, but otherwise didn’t move.
“All joking aside, the cut is me. It’s my club. The top rocker, the white banner, is our club name,” he said.
I felt along his back as he spoke, running my fingers over the patches as he explained what each one meant.
“The bottom rocker is our club’s location. We’re the Benton chapter, and we have chapters all over the south,” he explained. “On the front, over my heart, is my name, my club title, and the city again.”
I knew he was explaining this to me to get my mind off the fact that the roof was shaking over our heads, literally.
“I can’t believe Dallas hasn’t at least come to check on me,” I muttered darkly.
He tangled his hands in my hair, and I looked up at him…or where I thought he was.
“Your brother is a shit head. And I don’t think he even realizes that he is. Because if he did, he wouldn’t be telling your parents anything about how you were doing. My guess is that he really is worried, but he doesn’t know how to handle it. So, he closes himself off, telling himself that by telling your mother how he thinks you’re doing, he’s helping. Which, in reality, he’s not,” Silas said. “Maybe it’s time you had a talk with him. Let him know you don’t appreciate being tattled on like a child.”
I wholeheartedly agreed, and I’d already planned on doing just that.
“I was going to do that today, but then he had that huge freakin’ party,” I said, annoyance unmistakable in my tone. “I had to park on the street.”
He lowered his mouth down to mine.
“Well, then it’s a good thing he’s preoccupied, because I could really fuck you right about now, on top of his car, and he’d never even know,” he said tightly, lifting my body off the bench and laying me down on the car’s hood.