Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
He smiled sleepily and I had an overwhelming urge to kiss him.
But I licked my lips and pushed the thought away.
On the TV, The Princess Bride was just beginning, and when Ruger realized, he groaned.
“You’ve seen it?” I asked, surprised.
“Seen it? I can practically recite it.”
“You?”
“Only a billion times.”
Ruger was a constant surprise to me. “Tell me, how does a big bad biker come to know The Princess Bride so well?”
“It was my sister’s favorite movie and she used to watch it over and over until my eyes and ears bled. Our father gave her the video for Christmas.” He gave me a sideways glance. “Videos were what we had before DVDs, by the way.”
I gave him a fake glare. “Oh, you’re hilarious.”
Then Ruger went and quoted the movie and my heart burst like confetti in my chest.
“When I was your age, television was called books.”
He grinned at me. That delicious, panty-melting grin that was never far from my mind, and I laughed.
But when our eyes met, slowly our smiles faded and the air around us grew heavy in the silence that followed.
Neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. Suddenly, it grew very hot. My lips parted and his eyes dipped to them. In his throat, his Adams apple struggled to move as he swallowed deeply. He lifted his gaze and it locked to mine, and it was unmistakable what I saw there. Desire. My heart pounded like a drum as I held my breath. Kiss me. It was a mantra in my head. Kiss me. Because more than anything, I wanted to feel his lips against mine.
The air around us was so thick, I could barely breathe. Time had stopped. The moment stretched out.
Until he cleared his throat and abruptly broke the spell. “I should go to bed.”
I swallowed thickly. My mouth dry. My mind scrambling for something to say. “Yeah, I guess it’s late.”
It was all I could think of to say.
And it sounded so lame.
But I was fighting both shock and disappointment at the same time.
Shock about the level of desire I saw in Ruger’s eyes.
And disappointment because he seemed intent on doing nothing about it.
A cold awkwardness replaced the heat in the air as he pulled his big body to his feet. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Chastity.”
When he was gone, I let out a shaky breath.
Disappointment flooded my chest.
I had fallen for Mr. Untouchable.
And it was in that moment I truly realized what had been there all along.
What I had originally thought was a crush had somehow morphed into something much, much more.
RUGER
I escaped to my room.
Why?
Because I was seconds away from taking Chastity’s face in my hands and kissing her senseless.
And who knew what would’ve fucking happened after that?
I was officially in the danger zone.
I tried not to read too much into it. But I kept thinking about her eyes. There was no denying the want there. Like she was silently begging me to kiss her.
And I had been tempted.
Lord, how I had been tempted.
Feeling antsy, I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and raked my fingers down my face. My body was tight with need, my head crazy with thoughts of kissing her until we were both breathless, before taking her right there on the goddamn couch.
I groaned with searing frustration.
It was one thing to jerk off to the one woman who was completely off limits to you. But to actually consider taking it further and actually touching her was complete insanity.
Hello, douchebag.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose.
I wanted to take a swim. To let the cool saltwater wash it all away. The need. The want. The tight longing in my chest. But I couldn’t leave my room and risk running into Chastity again because there was only so much a man could take in one night. So I opted for a cold shower instead and knocked back two shots of Tennessee whisky to help me sleep.
Thankfully, the next day I had club business to keep me distracted.
Over the last week, our surveillance of Eagle’s Nest confirmed our suspicions that Martel was up to something more than making wine. For the last two days, several trucks had come and gone from the vineyard and our intel told us there was much more than wine onboard.
Bull decided it was time to send a message.
We watched and waited for another truck to come and go.
We tracked the truck the moment it left the gates of Eagle’s Nest, and followed it by drone as it made its way through back roads. Ten minutes out of town, as it entered a long stretch of highway heading toward the state line, it was met with a massive oil tanker blocking the road.
Our massive oil tanker blocking the road.