Craving Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation #8) Read Online Jordan Marie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, Erotic, MC Tags Authors: Series: Savage Brothers Second Generation Series by Jordan Marie
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
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“I want you on the back of my bike. I want your legs opened and pressing against me, clenching and wet from the need to have my cock inside you. Does that clear it up for you?” I rub my lips together after a small whimper escapes. He reaches out his hand and presses his thumb against them, and I open to allow him entry. He allows just the tip to rub against my bottom lip. “Don’t torture your lips, Peaches. That’s my job.”

“Fair warning, Torin. You keep talking like you are and you won’t need your bike to experience that little scenario you just laid out.”

He gives me the sexiest grin I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m pretty sure it immediately disintegrates my panties. “That’s the plan, sweetheart. That’s the plan,” he brags.

Torin knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Before I can jump on him and wrap my body around him, Chad begins moving behind him, bringing his hand to his head, mumbling something incoherently. I didn’t like him before, and now I’m pretty sure I hate the cheating bastard.

“Let’s go, Torin. I’m suddenly very hungry,” I mutter, taking his hand.

Torin lets out another low, deep rumble that I believe is him laughing. It, however, seems to vibrate against my clit as if there’s an invisible connection between him and it. I can do nothing but sigh. We climb on his bike and he drives us across the road. We don’t talk once there. I get off and stand awkwardly as he does the same. He takes my hand as we walk inside the small mom and pop joint.

I thought he might take us to a booth, but he doesn’t. He walks to the counter with the spinning stools under it. He helps me slide onto one, then sits beside me. I watch his hand as he reaches out to snag a menu. He tries to hand it to me, but I shake my head.

“I know what I want. I’ve been here a lot. The owner is a family friend. She used to babysit me when I was little,” I explain.

“Muffin!”

As if on cue, I jerk up to see Izzy walking out of the kitchen and toward us. Izzy is a little younger than my mother and is definitely not a waitress. She bought this place about ten years ago, saying she needed something to keep her busy because her son was going off to college. Her husband works as a cook and is very good at it. It’s probably one of the main reasons the place is so popular.

“Hey, Izzy. What’s good tonight?” I ask as she comes over. I stand up and hug her, stretching across the counter.

“Frank has made open faced roast beef sandwiches for tonight’s special. They’re so good, you’d die for them. Probably his best to date.”

“Yum! Get me one and a sweet tea for the drink,” I practically purr.

“I guess I’ll have the same but give me a beer to drink. Whatever you have is fine,” Torin adds.

“Sure thing,” Izzy says and heads back to the kitchen. We’re the only ones here tonight, which is nice.

“Nice to know you’re a woman who will order real food and not a salad.”

I practically snort. “I like salads, too. I just usually like a steak after them.”

“My kind of woman,” he flirts.

“I aim to please,” I answer. It’s probably being silly, but as I stare into his eyes, I find myself hoping tonight never ends. I feel comfortable around Torin in a way that I’ve never felt in my life. I’m responding to him in ways that I don’t truly understand. I just know it feels … right.

“Trust me, Peaches. You’re doing that in spades.”

“What made you pledge for the Savage Brothers?” I ask him, truly interested. “Are you from around here?”

While I wait for his answer, I take a moment to really study him. Torin is so hot. He’s covered in ink. I can see it on his arms and his neck. They’re a mixture of words, tribal tatts, and symbols. They disappear under his T-shirt. I wish I could see them. He’s got dark brown eyes that seem to stare into my soul. His black hair is cut short, full of waves and curls. My fingers itch to run my fingers through it. His beard is a mixed salt and pepper. I don’t know why I find that sexy, but God, I do.

“I’m from Kentucky, but not here. I’m from Owensboro. I don’t have the best of stories, I guess. Traveled down south and stopped at the truck stop here in London. Met Dom and we seemed to hit it off. Even though I was older than the other prospects, I decided to give it a try. Dom seemed to think I was made for the life. Everything I’d been doing didn’t feel right. So, I stayed.”


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