Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Sure,” I say and mix up another. She sips it slowly and diverts her eyes to her phone.
“Find a ride?” I ask, leaning on the bar so she can hear me.
“Not yet.”
“I can take you home,” I tell her.
“But you’re working.”
“Actually, I’m not. Just helping out.”
“Oh,” she says, looking confused. Is she drunk already? “Okay.”
I go back behind the bar to get my leather jacket, talking down my cock. Lauren is my best friend’s sister. I’ve known her for years. She should feel like my sister. I should not be thinking about rolling the straps of that tight dress off her shoulders, watching it fall to the floor. I should not be wondering what she tastes like, what it would feel like to stick my dick inside her.
“Ready?” she asks me when I get to her side.
“Yeah, come on.”
She follows me outside, heels wobbling on the gravel drive. The rain has stopped and the night is cool. I zip up my jacket and tell Lauren to do the same.
“Why?” she asks and pops buttons into place. “Does the heat not work in your car?”
“Oh it works just fine,” I say and fish the keys from my pocket. “But I didn’t drive my car tonight.”
She slows, tipping her head as she tries to make sense of what I said. I stop next to my bike.
“Oh hell no!” she exclaims. “I can’t ride that! I’m in a dress!”
I give her a crooked grin. “That’s never stopped anyone before. Hop on, baby.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Don’t call me baby. And you said nothing about riding that thing when you said you’d take me home. I’m in a dress and heels and it’s cold.”
“Then go back inside and wait for a ride, princess.” I don’t start the bike, don’t make a move to get on. I’m not going to leave her here, no way. Not dressed like that, and not drunk. Not ever. Because I never want to do anything that doesn’t make Lauren happy.
“Maybe I will,” she says. “And I’ll find someone with a car to take me home.”
“Really? Be my guest then,” I say flatly with a shake of my head. She might be drunk, but she’s not shit-faced enough to think that’s actually a good idea.
She lets out a breath. “Just take me home.”
I fire up the engine and laugh. “You know,” I say and turn back to Lauren. “I’ve never had an issue getting a chick on the bike before.”
“Sure,” she says and rolls her eyes.
“Really. They dig it.”
She slowly runs her gaze over me and then looks at the bike. “I suppose some people might find getting on the back of a motorcycle with a leather-clad tattooed man sexy.”
Was that a compliment? Does she find me sexy? Fuck, I need to distance myself. “Of course they do. Have you seen me?” I smile so she’s knows I’m joking, though really, this works.
“Try it on me.”
“On you … on … what?”
“Your lines. That these women supposedly ‘can’t resist’ and go home with you.” She even adds air quotes when she’s talking.
“I can’t just say it. It has to happen naturally.”
“Mhh-hmm. So pretend you already put the moves on me. We’re out in the parking lot after all.”
I shrug. “Then I’d say something like get on, come home with me, then I’ll get you off.” I lower my voice as I speak and give Lauren the best eye fuck I can.
It always works.
But not this time, and she doubles over laughing. “Sorry,” she says, gasping for air. She straightens up, wipes her eyes, and laughs again. “That actually works?”
My jaw is set. “Every time.”
“If you say so.”
I swing my leg over the bike. “Get on.”
She comes up behind me and puts her hands on my waist. I can’t think about it. I can’t acknowledge her gentle touch. “Then you can get me off,” she says in a deep voice, imitating me. And now she’s laughing again. Maybe she’s drunker than I thought.
We’re halfway to her house when it starts to rain. We are both soaked and freezing by the time we get there. Lauren opens the garage door and there is just enough room to squeeze the bike in. I hate when my baby gets rained on.
“Come in,” she says through chattering teeth. “You can hang out until the rain stops.”
For as long as I’ve known Lauren, walking into her house doesn’t feel strange. What feels strange is taking someone home from the bar and not getting any.
She’s Colin’s baby sister. I can’t do this.
Her dogs bark at me, and I almost run back into the rain when a large German Shepherd lunges for me. I’ve actually met the dog before, having gone to a few family get-togethers at the Winters’ house.
“Hey, Vader,” I say to him.
He barks and flashes his teeth. “It’s okay,” Lauren says, holding him back. How the hell is she not falling over? That dog has to weigh close to what she does. It takes several minutes of talking to the dog to get him to let me in the house.