Pagan Read Online Jessica Gadziala (Henchmen MC #8)

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Henchmen MC Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 79938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
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"I get that your lifestyle is, ah, a bit loose on the sexual moral thing. And that's fine and all. Your choices are your choices, but I don't, um, share. And I understand if that is a deal..."

"You want to be the only one riding my dick," he cut me off, lips twitching as my mouth fell slightly open, still not quite accustomed to his particular type of bluntness.

"I, ah, yeah. That's sort of what I was trying to..."

"Can't say I have ever, fucking ever, been a man for exclusivity. But if that's what you need to give this a shot, I'm willing to give it a try."

"No, ah, what are they called..."

"Clubwhores," he supplied easily. "Trust me, pet, that's no fucking loss. So, we're good? Got that shit out of the way."

"That 'shit' being my conditions," I said with a smile. "Um, I guess."

"Alright, out with it," he said, leaning back, brow raised.

"Out with what?"

"There's another condition or two in there. Out with it."

"Obviously we would need to use..."

His somewhat loud snort cut me off. "I've never fucked without a condom. Anything else?"

I was pretty sure I couldn't really demand after sex cuddle sessions to make me feel less weird about it. It was pretty standard in normal relationships, but this wasn't normal, and it wasn't a relationship.

"I guess that's it. Oh, well, we can't really... go back to my place," I said, absolutely horrified at the idea of anyone seeing how I lived. Hell, even Benny had been forbidden from going inside.

"Old man a filthy eavesdropper?"

Not really. "Something like that," I lied, looking down at his chin because I knew my eyes tended to give me away.

"Well, I have a room at the compound and my own place."

The compound. Which meant every single one of them would know that we slept together and would see me doing my sort of walk of shame later that night or early in the morning?

Yeah, that didn't sound the least bit tempting.

"Your place?"

"Yep," he agreed, standing suddenly, making me let out a very uncool squeal since I was still on his lap. But his hand was still around me, and he let me get my feet before he dropped an arm around my shoulders, the action very possessive and I found myself really liking it as he led me through the crowds of people still around then out the doors to the lot. "Hope bikes don't freak you out," he said as he led me toward a line of them, likely all belonging to his brothers.

"My dad had a bike. I think I was all of five the first time he took me out on it," I admitted, then winced slightly.

My dad wasn't my most favorite of topics. The memories I had of him were all amazing, fun, loving, exciting. But those memories ended right at ten when one night, he just decided to never come home. Which led my mother into both a deep depression because she lost the man she loved, but also into dire financial straits. While we had always been somewhat low-income even with my father around to help provide, when he disappeared, I became a little too familiar with the sensation of hunger, and we were the state-assistance kind of needy.

My mother had never been able to pull herself back out of that, not on her own. I aged up and started paying my own way and she remarried and let someone else take some of the burden off of her shoulders.

I couldn't blame her, but it also taught me how much I wanted to be my own woman, stand on my own two feet, never have anything that a man could point at and say 'if it weren't for me, you would never have that.'

So I busted my ass.

I did everything right.

I scrimped. I saved. I went to cosmetology school. I scrimped and saved some more and opened my business.

All was going to plan until...

"Kennedy, you getting on or are you following me on foot?" Pagan asked, making me realize he had already dropped down on his bike and was holding out a helmet toward me.

I inwardly cringed at the idea of sweaty helmet hair, but pulled it on and clipped the buckle as I moved to the side of the bike, realizing for the first time how dresses and motorcycles really weren't the best of ideas. Namely, because I couldn't get on without flashing him.

I made a spinning motion with my finger that made him chuckle. "I plan on peeling those panties off with my fucking teeth, but sure, save your modesty," he said, turning forward, still shaking his head at me as I climbed on.

It had been a while, obviously.

And being on a bike with a family member was completely different than being on a bike with a man you were interested in.


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