Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
As shitty as my time has been since I arrived in Valor, Wyoming, Logan makes it all better. Logan, Logan, Logan. My body throbs at the way he told me that “sir” was for the bedroom. Would he spank me? Would I like it? I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but thankfully it’s cold and my pink cheeks can be blamed on that.
I’m so lost in thought that I forget that I’m walking down a semi busy street and nearly collide with a man I remember from the diner. “Sorry,” I say.
He holds my biceps briefly before letting them go. “It’s okay.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly and then asks, “Clover, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Um. No, thank you, Mr.—” I stop because I never got his name this morning since my mind was twenty feet away in the back office with Logan. The man suddenly owns space in my head.
“I’m Simon Granger. Be careful going home. I don’t want your new boss to worry.” He has a sweet smile that underneath says more than his words do. I’m not frightened of the man, but I’m not some small-town girl. I grew up in a big city, and taking rides from strangers is a big hell, no.
“Um, thank you.”
He smiles and then walks past me to a waiting black SUV. A man opens the door for him and then he sits inside, but before he closes the door, he asks, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I’m only about a block away.
He nods and then closes the door. His driver takes off, and I finish my short walk to my cousin’s apartment building. I ring the outside bell, hoping she’s awake to buzz me into the building. She should still be home for another couple hours at least before she’s due back at the club. She buzzes me in and then leaves the door open when I reach her second-floor apartment.
I plop on the sofa that’s my makeshift bed for the foreseeable future. When I ran from my old life, I didn’t think it through. I lie back and think about everything that happened that led me to Valor in the first place. My parents have gone batshit crazy in their old age, talking about babies when I don’t even have a boyfriend. They were pushing so hard that I rushed out of my apartment when my lease ended and headed west to visit Cara, and she offered to let me stay for a bit. It’s not like I haven’t dated or even came close to giving up my v-card, but I’ve always pulled back before I got that far. I wanted it to mean something. My heart never raced for a man…until now.
Immediately my mind goes straight to the owner of Rooster’s Diner. Damn, those eyes trained on me like he hated that he wanted me. Maybe he’s used to the tail around here. From what I hear, there are plenty of women who love to get fucked by the MC guys. I thought it was stupid, but now, seeing Logan, it doesn’t seem that far-fetched.
I close my eyes and run my hands down my thighs, itching to reach between my legs, but there’s not an ounce of privacy in here. I need my own place, but that’s not likely to happen. Maybe Cara’s got a point, and stripping is the way to go. Honestly, I can’t see myself doing that—unless he’s the only customer. Damn it, I have to get Logan out of my head. He’s my boss, and he barely tolerates my presence. I need to make money and kill it on tips. Today, Heather tried to give me some of her tips, but I didn’t earn them. She busted her ass so much that I was impressed at her dedication. She’s in school and wants more out of life, so she’s going to leave town soon.
The clicking of heels lets me know Cara’s coming toward me. I turn and see she’s dolled up. I want to ask her if something’s wrong, but we’re not close like that. “Ugh, Clover, I’m going to be late tonight and have company coming with me, so if you could straighten up for me, that would be great.”
“Sure.” I can’t even complain since she lets me stay here rent free until I can get on my feet. I have some savings, but it’s not enough to get me my own apartment.
“Good. Thanks. I’ll see you later.” I look at her and she’s too skinny for her own good, eyes looking gaunt. I wonder if she does drugs. I steal glances at her arms when I can, but there are no lines, so that’s good, but she could be popping, snorting, or smoking it. I get that she has to stay in shape, but she’s not in shape. She’s nearly anorexic. I’m worried about her. When we were kids, we were inseparable. Then, her parents moved her far away because her father was stationed in Fort Collins. When he died in a training accident, she became a shell. It wasn’t until about a month ago that she called, wanting me to come and visit. Needing to get away, I packed up and came here. Maybe it was a bad idea, but what can I do? I have an associate’s degree in finance, but no one wants that. They want you to have a master’s degree these days at the bare minimum.