Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I already thought he looked more like a biker than an architect.
Yet it was one more thing in the evolution of Lewis Adair I’d missed when once upon a time, I thought I’d be around to see it all.
“You want me to get on that?” My bitterness seethed in the question.
And I blamed him for that too. I didn’t want to be a bitter person!
“Scared?” Lewis unlocked the hard case box on the back of the bike, flashing me a teasing grin I knew all too well before he pulled out helmets.
“No. My ex had a bike.” It was true. I’d ridden on the back of Gabriel’s bike often.
Lewis’s smile dropped. “So, what’s the problem?”
I gestured down to my clothing. “Not exactly dressed for a ride.”
His eyes dragged down my body in a way that made my pulse flutter. When our gazes locked, he wore an expression I’d never seen on Lewis’s face before. Pure, unadulterated lust. “I adamantly disagree.”
It took a second for his hoarse words and their meaning to register. I gaped at him. “You did not just say that.”
His mouth kicked up at the corner. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
I could tell by the devil in his eyes, he absolutely meant it that way.
Lewis held out a hand. “Give me your purse. I’ll put it in the box.”
Still a bit stunned by his overt flirting, I held out the clutch and watched as he locked it away. With one more wicked smirk in my direction, he swung his leg over the bike with ease. “You coming or not?”
So this was who he was now?
Flirty and cocky, and probably a total manwhore to boot.
Fine. If he wanted to play it that way … I marched over to the bike, tugged the hem of my dress up indecently high, and swung my leg over. Then I scooted as close to Lewis as possible to protect what little modesty I could. My heels rested on the passenger footpegs, bringing my thighs closer to him.
He was tense against me, staring over his shoulder at my bare legs.
“Well?”
Lewis looked forward and pulled his helmet down. I followed suit.
Then I slid my arms around his waist. His heat hit my palms through the thin fabric of his shirt. I could feel the hard ridges of his abs and noted how much broader his shoulders were now.
He was Lewis … but he wasn’t.
He wasn’t my Lewis anymore.
“Ready?” His question was slightly muffled by his helmet.
I tapped his stomach to let him know I was.
With that, the engine purred to life and Lewis kicked up the stand to take off. I loved being on the back of a bike, but it was different with him. Whereas before I got lost in the sensation of riding—it was almost like flying, taking in the scenery passing by at speed—now I felt nothing but him.
His heat, his hardness.
The vibrations of the bike between my thighs while I pressed my breasts against his strong back.
Memories flooded me.
Random moments. Like searching for him in a room, only to find him watching me with such tenderness on his expression, I could die with happiness. His hungry kisses. His loving touch. How perfect and right it felt to be naked in his arms.
The way it broke me in half to realize that for him, none of it was enough to stay with me in Ardnoch.
Less than twenty minutes later, Lewis halted the bike on a well-lit, well-maintained, tree-lined street occupied by pretty townhouses.
As soon as the engine stopped, I released my hold on him and pulled off the helmet. “Where are we?”
Lewis took off his helmet. “My place.”
Annoyance and anticipation were my friction-filled companions as I swung my leg off the bike and smoothed my dress down. When I looked up, it was to find Lewis staring hotly at my body. “Stop ogling me,” I huffed.
He smirked as he got off the bike. “If you didn’t want me to ogle you, you shouldn’t have worn that dress. Or those shoes.”
“Does that kind of talk work for you with other women? Because it seriously does nothing for me.” I slammed the helmet into his stomach and marched away from him to wait on the pavement.
Lewis locked the helmets away, grabbed my clutch, and then handed it to me before he walked past with a careful expression. He gestured to stairs that led down to a basement flat.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked as we walked into the small apartment. It had an open-plan living and kitchen area that was smaller than my parents’ living room. A hallway at the side of the kitchen clearly led to the bedroom and bathroom. The space was stylish but cold. He had no photos on the walls. Just generic artwork. The lack of light was depressing too. I hated this flat for him.