Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
People may call me a lone wolf, but they know I’ll be there when they need me. They know I put the club above everything. They know I’m a solid man. They can rely on me. Can’t they?
“I should be here for Dad,” she murmurs, but a twitch in her voice tells me she’s thinking about it.
Or maybe I just think I can read her far better than I can.
“I could read you a story just like old times,” I say, smirking.
“I’m not a kid anymore,” she snaps, suddenly sassy as hell.
I hold my hands up, chuckling. I have to keep this shield up. The smirk. The casualness. The same old Kai. Nothing about how I really feel can shine through.
Not for a second.
“It could be fun,” I say, shrugging like it doesn’t matter. “And just think, you’ll have plenty of inspiration for your poetry. Are you still interested in that?”
She stands a little straighter, a note of dignity in her posture. “I won an online competition a few months ago.”
“Well done. You should be proud.”
“I don’t mean to brag.”
“I didn’t think you were bragging.”
She sighs, shaking her head and then nodding. “Oh, I don’t know. To be honest, I’d love to get away for a few days, but I don’t want to be a tagalong. You’re only asking me because Ryan asked you to, right?”
“I’m asking because—”
“No.” She steps forward, looking up at me with a mixed expression, one part confident, with several spoonfuls of shyness. She pushes past the nerves. “Tell me the truth. Please, Kai. I’ve been lied to enough today.”
She’s asking for the impossible. I can’t tell her the truth, at least not all of it.
“Ryan asked me to ask you,” I say, “but that doesn’t mean it’s inconvenient. I meant what I said. I could do with the company.”
Say yes, Kayla, or I’ll have to take you anyway.
“Are you sure you’re sure?”
“I’m sure, I’m sure. I’m goddamn sure,” I grin. “Come on. We’ll pack a bag for you.”
She smiles shakily. “On the b-bike?”
“Since when did you develop a stutter?”
“I haven’t. I guess I’m just… It’s hot. I just learned something pretty messed up. Do you need any more reasons?”
I smirk. I can’t help it. “Since when did you get so feisty?”
“I’m not feisty.”
She marches over to my Harley, the beautiful, sexy liar. She definitely is feisty.
Joining her, I climb onto the bike and look over my shoulder.
“Well, are you coming or not?”
She nods and climbs onto the back of the bike. Thank God my jacket is zipped up, but I still feel her push against my back.
“Don’t you have any grips?” she murmurs.
“Never had any need,” I say.
“So should I…”
I swallow. My dick is almost hurting. There’s so much tension in me, so much hunger.
“It’s fine,” I tell her.
She wraps her arms around me, my heart thudding so hard I’m sure she must be able to feel it.
“Wait.”
I step off the bike, knowing I can’t do this and have to find a way to back out, but wouldn’t that mean putting her in danger?
“Is something wrong?” she murmurs, stepping off the bike, her cheeks even redder than before.
“N-no…”
Now I’ve developed a sudden stutter. I lean down, pick up my helmet, and dust it off. I’d never normally place it on the ground, but seeing her, I lost my mind.
“We forgot this.”
I carefully place the helmet over her head. When she raises her hand to adjust it, our hands touch, electricity sparking up my arm. Hunger, as I’ve never felt. Her hand needs a ring on it. It needs to be wrapped around my dick. It needs, needs, needs…
Need. That’s what I’ve become, right down to my bones.
“Let’s go.”
We drive back toward the house, her hands pressing against me tightly.
CHAPTER THREE
Kayla
As he rides back the way I just walked, I have to remind myself that this isn’t a dream. This is actually happening. My hands are wrapped around him. The bike thrums beneath us, the engine vibrating like he’s doing it on purpose, trying to add to the pleasure.
Is this real?
This destiny-touched feeling,
Being so close to my man,
Has my soul reeling.
Not my best work, but I don’t think anybody could blame me. My mouth feels dry. I’m relieved I’m wearing the helmet. Not for any safety concerns, but because I know I’d be tempted to lean up and bite down on his neck. All those bedtime stories, all that hard crushing, and now I’m crushing his jacket in my hands, squeezing tightly.
He doesn’t drive up the road to the house straightaway. Instead, he takes a turn toward our family’s private cemetery. It’s where Mom’s buried, too. I want to ask him what he’s doing, but I feel like I can’t speak. Anyway, I doubt he would hear with the engine and the helmet covering my mouth.
I squeeze my hands tighter against his jacket. What would he do if I reached up and unzipped it, felt his chest, his muscles pushing through his shirt? The rumbling of the engine makes my sex ache and my belly sizzle.