Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
That was Travis, and he didn’t sound happy.
“Ran into a problem,” I said, eyeing Kennedy. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Travis muttered something and hung up, leaving me standing there, my pants around my thighs, staring at Kennedy as she cleaned herself of my release.
I watched her drop the towel, and then walk out of the room, but only far enough that she could get to the bed and flop down on it, face first.
My lips twitched.
Buckling my pants up, I walked into the bedroom and stood over her.
“Come on,” I ordered, hauling her up from her sprawled position by one ankle. “I have a company meeting, and I need to run by my place and change. And I would like to take my bike because it’s a beautiful fucking day out, and we needed to be there about five minutes ago…that okay?”
She stood shakily on her feet, and her face was a mask of pleased tiredness. The look on her face, paired with what we’d just done, was enough to make me feel smug.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll ride on your motorcycle with you. What should I wear?”
I thought about that for a moment.
“You have any leather?”
She didn’t really need leather. More so she just needed pants, but I’d love to see her rounded ass in leather.
Not that the stuff she wore wasn’t extraordinary enough, but the thought of seeing those rounded curves in something that was so tight on her ass that it was like a second skin—yeah, that did things for me.
Things that shouldn’t be happening when I’d just had her, but oh well.
It was what it was.
“I have a leather skirt,” she said. “But no leather pants…which would be the only thing I would wear on a motorcycle. I’ve seen some crazy Facebook video footage of what happens when a woman wears a skirt on a bike.”
I grinned and pulled her to me.
“Yeah?” I asked. “What happens?”
“People get a sneak peek whether the skirt-wearer wants them to or not.”
My gut twisted.
“Wear pants,” I grumbled.
Her lips twitched. “Yes, Sir.”
***
Twenty—not thirty—minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of Hail Auto Recovery.
Instead of going inside like one would expect, I grabbed hold of Kennedy’s hand and tugged her along behind me, taking her not to the shop, but to the club next door.
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the club.
It was one of the most popular places in the area and owned by Travis and Dante Hail.
“I didn’t realize that a city limit sign could be in the middle of a city.”
I looked over at where she was pointing, and saw the sign that read Jefferson, Texas City Limits. Population: 4, 206.
“There’s a story there,” I said distractedly as I walked up to the door, grabbing Kennedy’s hand as I did.
Atticus saw me, nodded his head, and then opened the club’s door without another word.
We walked inside into a dark, quiet hallway.
“Well, are you going to tell me this story?” she teased.
I grinned.
“Hostel used to be a dry town, and when we decided to open the club, Hostel’s city council flat out refused to allow them to have a liquor license. So they built the club—they, as in the owners, Travis and Dante—the next town over since they would approve the liquor license. That’s Jefferson, Texas.”
“Was the garage always there?” She pointed behind her, I assumed to indicate the Recovery shop.
“No,” I said. “When the business took off, they rebuilt it. But they wanted it in Hostel, and not Jefferson, because that’s where it was established. In the beginning, Dante and Travis, as well as Dante’s wife, started it out of their garage in Hostel. For a short time, they moved to Louisiana and opened another branch in Shreveport, but they no longer run that location. Though, the location still uses ‘Hail Auto Recovery’ for the name because it’s an established business there.”
“Sounds confusing,” she murmured, stopping when we came to a door.
I pushed it open, and the pulsing sounds of the club started to vibrate around us.
“Wow,” she gasped. “I’ve never even heard of this place. It’s amazing.”
I laughed. “The way you tell it, your sister’s the one who took you out and got you to see new places and things. You’re not really the type to go out and party. I can see why you wouldn’t know about this place.”
I immediately felt badly about mentioning her sister, and the frown and sadness that entered her eyes was enough to make my heart clench.
Fuck!
Then she smiled.
“My sister tried to get me to go out with her once to a club downtown, but I flat out refused. It’s not surprising that she wouldn’t tell me about this one.”
I squeezed her hand and tugged her into me, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as I directed her into the back of the club, down a long hallway, and into the private quarters that the Hail crew, also known as the Hail Raisers, occupied when they were in the club.