Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Not at all,” I lie.
“Hmph. Sounded like it was sexual,” he said easily, not rattled at all by my sudden anger. “My bad.”
“Damn right, your bad.” I finish off my beer and flag down the waitress again for another round. I’m slightly tipsy, and this third shot and beer will have me feeling just right.
“Story of my fucking life,” I mutter under my breath.
“Tell me the story of your life, Gia.”
I blink at Preacher’s words and shake my head. “No thanks. It’s boring as hell. I’m the one who’s lived through it.”
“Gia, one thing you are not is boring. And I’m interested in knowing more about you.”
I shrug, not really sure what to say. I’m not used to people being interested in me. Especially not men. “There’s not much to know. I grew up here in Angel Harbor, never went to college, and now I’m here with you. That’s pretty much it.”
“What about your family?”
I shake my head. “Nothing to know. Dad died of a drug overdose like I told you. Mom is perpetually disappointed in me. Poor with no prospects. What else do you want to know?”
Preacher doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I can tell he wants to ask more questions but he doesn’t. I’m grateful for that. I don’t want to talk about my family. I don’t want to think about them or the pain they’ve caused me.
“So, what do you do for fun?” Preacher asks after a moment.
I shrug again. “I don’t know, party. Hang out with Ro. I don't have a job or anything. I just kind of... exist, I guess.”
Preacher takes a sip of his drink before he sets it down and leans forward, his eyes locked on mine. “I think you should have some fun tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you propose I do?”
“I think you should come on ride with me,” Preacher says, his voice low and husky.
“Okay,” I find myself saying.
Is he propositioning me? I’m totally on board, but he didn’t react the way I expected last time. Then again, I’m just tipsy enough now to try time more time.
“Sure. Bike ride under the stars?”
“Yeah,” he says matter of fact.
I finish off my beer in the most unladylike fashion imaginable, but I hope this handsome biker isn’t looking for a lady tonight. I flash a wide grin and scoot toward the edge of the booth. “I’m in. Let’s go.”
Preacher lays a small wad of bills on the table, and I follow him to the door. Taking full advantage of my spot behind him to ogle his tight ass in dark blue denim, that lazy long-legged walk like he’s got a big obstruction between his legs. And good Lord, the man has confidence in spades, and that’s probably why my pussy is pulsing like a drum. That and the booze, anyway.
“You coming?” He quirks a brow at me and plants a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Not yet,” I shoot back and step in close to him as the night air swirls around us, warm with just a hint of cool to harden my nipples. “But I’m working on it.”
“Gia,” he says in that admonishing tone that reminds me too much of my disappointed mother, but I refuse to let it distract me from those lips, pink and lush and waiting for my kiss.
“Preacher,” I mimic back. “You want this as much as I do, and I’m tipsy sure, but I’m sober enough to know that I want to kiss you. Hell, I might burst if I don’t kiss you right now.”
Instead of waiting for him to make the first move or reject me, I press my body against his and then my lips. I dive right into the kiss, knowing that if Preacher has time to think about it, he’ll push me away, and make tonight’s rejection complete.
For a long moment, he gives into the kiss. I slide my tongue back and forth along the seam of his lush lips until he growls and opens up, giving me just enough room to slip inside his mouth and explore the cranberry-flavored depths.
His mouth is perfect and too much at once, and when his grip tightens on my waist, I smile against his lips. He wants this too.
That thought is enough to push me even more. I tangle my fingers in his hair, the wind brushing stray hairs against the back of my hand. I deepen the kiss, tasting and devouring him as my body temperature rises.
All too soon, Preacher pulls back. Regret written all over his face.
“Gia, we can’t.”
“That’s funny because we were and doing a damn good job at it.” My whole body is on fire, throbbing for what comes next.
“We shouldn’t,” he says in return.
I feel…too fucking much. One more fucking person who thinks I’m not good enough, not worthy of even a few stolen kisses or a hard fuck on a dark night. “Right. Fuck you, Preacher.”