Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 37123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 186(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
I frown.
But before then…
I groan. Before the chaos, there was the kiss—several kisses, actually. And then me putting my hand on her and feeling just how wet that little pussy was. I growl, my cock instantly thickening down my muscled leg against my jeans.
I’m still fucking shirtless, and when the wind whips her fluffy robe around, I can tell it’s pulling it away from her. She hugs me closer, and I growl at the feel of her nipples hard against my back. I can still taste her on my lips, and I want fucking more, now. But I also need to put distance between us and the mob back there, so I keep driving. Somehow, I restrain myself from pulling over and taking her right here on the bike.
Motel lights appear a little ways off from the main road, and I take the exit. Nicole clings to me as we roar through one of several sleepy little Cape Cod towns towards it. It’s not quite tourist season yet, when this whole area will be crawling with bumper to bumper traffic. For now, though, it’s the calm before the storm.
They aren’t looking for this bike, but I’m still careful when we pull into the motel parking lot. I park at the back of the lot, near the last room in the row before helping her off. And I won’t at all pretend to be a gentleman and say I didn’t let my eyes drink in the sight of her bare ass and tight little pussy as she slid off the bike.
“What are we doing?”
“Hiding.”
She swallows. “So that was the mob?”
I nod
“And you’re what exactly?”
I shrug as I slip the gun from the waist of my jeans and shove it into the bike’s saddlebag under some rags, next to where I shoved her purse and phone.
“Undercover FBI.”
She rolls her eyes, and I grin.
“You got me. I was actually just wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and savior Jesus Christ today.”
She cocks a brow, glaring at me. “So you’re a comedian, got it.”
I grin. Fuck, I like this sass, a lot. And so does my still swollen cock.
“Royal Bastards, Boston chapter,” I growl.
She stiffens. “Like a gang?”
“More like a club.”
“But a club that does gang stuff.”
I frown. “No, not really.” I shake my head. “We need to get inside and out of sight, let’s go.”
I go to pull her towards the main office, but she resists, tugging back.
“Why did you take me? I mean you’re not after money, and you didn’t…” she blushes. “I mean you only kissed me…”
I turn, my eyes burning into hers.
“I don’t think that was the only thing I did, princess,” I growl.
The blush on her face only deepens as I turn back, grinning as I pull her towards the main office. Inside, the front desk guy blinks in shock—I mean, we’re both streaked with dirt and grime from the ride, and Nicole’s in her bathrobe, me shirtless.
“Umm…”
“Need a room,” I grunt.
He swallows. “I’m sorry, we have policies.”
I frown. “What?”
The man stiffens and then glances at a little plastic card on the desk that reads “no shoes, no shirt, no service.” I roll my yes, and I’m tempted to go back to the bike and get the gun I left there, but that’d be heat I don’t need right now. Luckily, I’m well aware of what also talks loudly.
I reach into the back pocket of my jeans, pull out a thick wad of cash, and peel two hundred off, slapping them down.
“How much for a room?”
He blinks, fidgeting his fingers.
“Ahh, that should cover it!”
He reaches for the money, but I grab his wrist, making him gasp.
“How much.”
“Fifty!” he screeches.
I smile. “Good. So there’s fifty for the room, fifty for you to pretend I’m wearing a goddamn shirt, and another hundred to forget you ever saw us tonight, right?”
He blinks.
“Right?” I snarl.
He nods quickly. “Right! Yes, of course!”
I smile. “Well thank you.”
“You’re in room twelve, at the very end,” he says, quickly passing me a key with a shaky hand.
“And if anyone asks?”
“Room twelve is being renovated?”
“Good man,” I growl, turning back to Nicole. “Shall we?”
She follows me down the row of motel rooms until we get to the one at the very end, right by where I parked. I grab the saddle bag from the bike, and we head to the room.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she says quietly as I unlock the door. We step in and I glance around to double check the place. It’s no palace, but it’s not gross either. She steps in, and I close the door behind her, locking it before drawing the curtains and tossing down the saddlebag.
“Hello?”
“What?”
“You didn’t answer me.”
“What didn’t I answer?”
“Why did you take me?”
I clench my jaw. For everything I am, and all that the Bastards are, and everything that was supposed to happen tonight, I don’t need to be the one that tells this girl how bad a man her own father is.