Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
He hung up as I reached for the little bottle, which was on the top shelf. I ignored him, determined not to react to his talk with the girlfriend, because how pathetic would that be?
“Let me get that for you,” he said, right in my ear. It startled me so much that I jumped back, right into his body. One strong arm came around my waist to steady me while the other reached for the bottle. My entire body seemed to melt into his strength, and my boobs made a serious bid for escape from my halter top when the hard muscles of his chest touched my back. I felt him bulging a little against my butt. Not like he had a full boner, but the package was definitely there, and it wasn’t soft.
Goose bumps broke out all over my body.
“I really enjoyed dinner,” he said, the words a low whisper in my ear. “But I need to get going now—I’m meeting up with Talia. Here’s your dill.”
Cooper handed me the little bottle, then let me go before walking out of the kitchen.
What. The. Fuck.
Through the kitchen window, I watched as he threw a leg over his motorcycle. Then he was kicking it to life, pulling away from the curb with a spray of gravel. Every nerve in my body tingled, my nipples were like rocks, and my panties were soaked. Nobody had made me feel this way in forever, and yet instead of staying here to finish the job, he’d left to go see his girlfriend.
Hateful bitch.
My fingers hurt, and I looked down to realize I’d been squeezing the bottle so hard they’d turned white. I scowled, tossing it in the garbage, because who the fuck likes dill, anyway?
CHAPTER FIVE
GAGE
For once, I was thankful that I had a date with Talia. Yes, she was a controlling bitch and I hated dealing with her . . . But it reminded me why I wasn’t free to go after Tinker. I couldn’t afford an entanglement with another woman. Not if I wanted to stay loyal to my club.
My dick disagreed.
It thought we should just bang Tinker on the kitchen counter, because fuck loyalty. Gotta admit, it was damned tempting. I had this recurring fantasy of ripping off her pants, smacking her ass a couple times for color, and then splitting her wide open while she screamed at me. She’d be hot and tight and warm . . .
Fuck.
It actually hurt to climb on my bike—that’s how much she’d worked me up. At least the ride out to the Nighthawks’ clubhouse gave me the time to pull my shit together. I turned into the parking lot, nodding to the prospect standing watch outside. He looked like he was fifteen years old, and I couldn’t see him weighing much over a hundred and twenty-five pounds. Marsh was obviously scraping bottom at this point.
“I’m here to see Talia,” I told him, and he nodded, his face distinctly uncomfortable. Great, she must be up to something. Just what I needed to deal with tonight.
“She’s right inside.”
I opened the door to find the clubhouse maybe half full. Men wearing Nighthawks colors sat around talking, and girls flitted back and forth, fetching beer and giggling. Along one wall I spotted Cord and the other malcontents watching the rest with calculating eyes. A few women wearing leather vests sat with them—their old ladies. I’d been studying them closely and was convinced that Cord and his group wanted Marsh gone as much as the Reapers did. That added urgency to the situation, because sooner or later they’d stop watching and waiting. Then we’d have a civil war on our hands and that’d bring down trouble on all the clubs.
I looked around for Talia, spotting her toward the back of the room. Sitting on another man’s lap. Fuck. I knew him—Mike something-or-other, another hangaround. The thought struck me—another hangaround—because that’s all I could be right now. A fucking hangaround, after nineteen years with the Reapers. Going undercover sucked—I missed my club colors.
Talia glanced toward me and I saw her eyes harden. Great. I was supposed to be out here an hour ago, but I’d eaten dinner with Tinker instead. Now she was going to punish me. Deliberately turning her back on me, she swung a leg over Mike’s lap and straddled him, her mouth covering his. She obviously wanted a scene, and I’d have to give it to her or roll over and beg like a pussy.
Heh. Wouldn’t that serve her right.
Eyes followed me as I strolled across the room, resigned to playing my part. At least she’d picked a nobody. If I confronted one of the brothers, they’d kill me.
Little cunt.
If shit like this happened back home with a woman I was seeing, we’d have a problem but it wouldn’t last for long. No brother would pull that on me, and if another man was stupid enough to touch what was mine, I’d put him in the ground.