Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I told her with a shrug. “Grew up in the same home for a little while.”
She hummed. “And you all just decided to form a motorcycle club?”
I chuckled. “It was Shaw and Konrad’s idea, actually,” I told her. That was public knowledge, really. “That’s why they’re the President and the Vice President, despite Jax being the oldest of all of us.”
Her brows furrowed at the mention of Jax. “Jax… is his girlfriend… okay?” she asked.
My shoulders shook with silent laughter, a grin splitting my cheeks. Blakely tended to be covered in bruises and bite marks from Jax. Thankfully, I never had to hear them fucking like rabbits since Jax was decent enough to take Blakely to a hotel for the night when they planned to get really rough. I was pretty sure Blakely made him so they wouldn’t traumatize Blu and Grey. Jax wasn’t really the kind of man to make sure any of us were comfortable about their sex life.
“Blakely is definitely okay,” I assured her. “She… likes what Jax does to her.”
Abbie’s frown deepened at that news, and she stared at her food for a long few seconds before looking back up at me. “Your club—what do you guys do?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Charity runs, mostly,” I partially lied. It wasn’t the whole truth, but I mean, we did do charity runs sometimes, especially when it centered around foster kids.
“What kind?” she asked, cocking her head to the side the slightest bit.
“This and that,” I told her. “Whatever we feel like.”
She arched a brow at me, looking oddly pleased about something. “You’re being evasive, Cameron.”
I snorted. “Not evasive,” I lied smoothly, nothing giving me away. “We don’t like bragging about what we do. It’s rude, honestly. And is it really helping people if we’re so eager to just blurt what we do to help them?”
She jerked back then, her smug expression falling. I wanted to laugh. “Well, no, I guess not,” she muttered. “I’m sorry for prying.”
No, you’re not, little devil. But I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I just moved my plate to the side as the waiter made his way over to us with our meals. I looked at Abbie once the waiter was gone again. “Tell me, little devil. What made you decide to become a cop?”
She sighed. “Family,” she said.
I smirked, amused. “Who’s being evasive now?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.
She rolled her eyes but still didn’t give me an answer. I snorted and picked up my fork to eat my pasta. She was sulking, but that was fine. She was still hot as fuck, even when she was pouting.
Abbie’s frustration was clear as I drove her back to the mobile home she lived in about ten miles from the clubhouse. Our dinner had gone about much of the same as it’d started—me flirting and surprising her with the filth I let spill past my lips, her asking questions and me being evasive, and me asking questions in turn I knew she wouldn’t answer because she was too busy sulking.
She was so fucking hot when she was pouting. It made me want to order her to her knees, bury my fingers in that luscious, pin-straight dark hair, and fuck my cock into her sweet, curious mouth and down her tight throat.
I pulled up beside her car in front of her simple, wooden porch and shifted my truck into park. She stared at her front door for a moment before looking over at me. “Do you want to come in?”
I drummed my fingertips on the steering wheel as I regarded her for a moment. She just evenly met my gaze, refusing to back down. Fuck, I was a little addicted to her backbone. She had a hell of one, and I had to admit, I admired it.
She wasn’t bad. Not at all. And honestly, if she wasn’t a cop, I’d give something true with her a go. But she was a law enforcement officer, which technically made her off limits for anything even potentially long-term.
I had to be content with this little game I was playing with her. That was all I was allowed.
“Do you know what’s going to happen if I follow you into your house?” I asked her.
She nodded. “I do. And I want it.”
I pushed open my door. “Say less, little devil. Stay seated. I’ll come let you out.” I winked at her as I turned to face her, my hand on the top of my door to shut it. “Don’t want you hurting yourself or breaking those heels getting down. I have plans for those heels.”
Fuck, I loved the way her pupils blew wide every time I surprised her with my dirty words and sensual promises.
When I opened her door, I reached in and grasped her waist before lifting her down from my lifted truck. She ran her eyes over me, a smirk tilting her lips as she tugged her dress down. Didn’t know why she bothered; I had plans to shove that dress up around her waist, pull her thong to the side, and fuck her so hard, she forgot her name as soon as we were inside.