Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I turn, not giving him a moment of acknowledgement, and smile at Remy. “This is probably not something you do every day?”
He chuckles. “No, it isn’t, but I don’t mind trying new things. Do you come here often?”
“Not anymore, but I have business to take care of, and, unfortunately, this is the only place I can do that.”
“I won’t dare ask what kind of business you have with a biker club.”
I give him a nervous grin. “No, I wouldn’t ask either. But, I’m sure by now you’ve figured out that I’m in some hot water, so I’ve already taken a dark dive down a rabbit hole.”
He nods, because he knows.
He wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t in trouble.
Luna comes up beside us, two drinks in her hand. “I’ll never quite feel like I belong in a place like this,” she murmurs, glancing around.
“Want to take a walk?” Remy asks her.
Cheeks flushing, she nods.
Remy looks to me, and I can’t help but smile. “I’m fine here. Nobody is going to snatch me in the middle of a biker club.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. Go.”
Luna mouths ‘thank you’ and the two of them disappear. I drink my beer a little too quickly, trying not to let my eyes scan over the man still sitting against the wall, the woman on his lap making the monster inside of me rise up to the surface. I hate it. I can’t stand seeing someone else on him, touching him, and the more I see it, the worse it makes me feel. More and more alcohol slides down my throat as I try to keep my emotions in check.
I hate that I want him.
Life would be so much easier if I didn’t.
I push through the crowd in a desperate search for a quiet place. I need to talk to Western, but there is no way I’m approaching him right now. I’m going to need a few more drinks before I do that. Even then, I’m sure he’ll see right through my bravado. I find an old, chopped down tree near Western’s shed and nestle myself onto it, sliding my bottom back until my legs are dangling. In the dark silence, my head clears just a little. My breathing evens out, and my heart feels as though it isn’t so heavy.
“Why are you here?”
Western’s voice comes from the darkness, and my head whips around to see him appearing, alone. My voice gets stuck in my throat as I take him in. Every hard inch of him. I want nothing more than to run my hands over his body, to breathe him in, to feel his mouth against mine. My lust is borderline obsession, but I’m fooling myself if I think it isn’t more than that. I already know it is. I’m falling in love with him, day by day, even when he’s pushing me away.
It’s killing me.
But I’m not about to let that show.
“It’s an open party,” I say, meeting his eyes.
“Not for you.”
“I didn’t see a sign on the gate saying I wasn’t welcome. If you want to kick me out, Nightmare, then you can lift me up and toss me out yourself. Otherwise, I’m staying.”
Calling him Nightmare feels foreign to me, but I also know it stings something inside him because I never use it. At least, the broken parts of me hopes that it does. The reality of it is that he probably doesn’t care.
“What is it you want?”
“I want information. I want to speak with you. I want ...”
He steps up closer. “The truth.”
His voice is gravelly.
“You know what I want,” I whisper, looking up at him, my hair tumbling down my back as my breathing becomes shallow.
“You’ll never have what you want.”
His words hurt.
They’re crushing.
He knows it.
“You can leave now,” I say, my voice strained, my heart racing.
“I’ll give you what you need, but never what you want.”
What in the ever loving hell is that supposed to mean?
“And that is?”
He reaches down, taking my knees in his hands and jerking them open, exposing me. My short dress rides up and the lacy panties I’m wearing do nothing to cover my pussy, which is already damp and ready for him. I hate that my body is so very needy when it comes to Western, but I can’t seem to make it stop. I want him almost more than I want the next gush of air to rush into my lungs. He makes me dizzy with desire and lust, and hungry for so much more.
“What makes you think I want this?” I ask, my voice raspy as he runs his finger down the middle of my damp slit, coating his finger in my arousal.
“You can say one word to end it.”
Stop.
I could say stop and he would, I know he would.
But I don’t want him to.
My desperation to feel him far outweighs my pride. I know I should deny him, that I should turn him away and focus only on what I came here for, but my body has been longing for him just as much as my heart. I want to put my hands on him, to inhale his musky scent, to feel his cock dragging in and out of my flesh. I need him. Even if he doesn’t need me.