Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
“I hope it involves getting naked again.”
“It does. Only, I have one request.”
“Anything.”
She picked at the collar of my shirt she wore. “I’m gonna need some clothes that actually fit. Much as I like wearing your clothes, I can’t look like a kid playing dress-up when I take it to the rest of the club.”
“I suppose that would take some of the sting out of whatever you decide to say.”
“Can’t have that. So, I need a couple of T-shirts and jeans. And maybe some motorcycle boots, ‘cause old ladies need to look the part. Speaking of which.” Her expression hardened again. “Where’s my fuckin’ vest?”
I barked out a laugh before wincing and glancing toward the room where I hoped Effie was still asleep. “Honey, you got here less than twenty-four hours ago. I can’t pull a property cut outta my ass.”
“How long?”
“It’s being made. You’ll have it tomorrow before we call church.”
She poked me in the chest none too gently. “I better. I don’t want to go in there without something to prove what I am, but I will. And if any one of those motherfuckers challenge me, I will bust a motherfucker up.”
“All right,” I grunted, bending to scoop her up. “You’ve done it now.”
“Rocket, what are you doing?” She didn’t struggle but looked appropriately put out.
“Takin’ you back to bed. You gave me a hard-on and I need to fill your pussy with more cum.”
She jerked back, looking at me with a surprised mien. “Oh. Well, then.” She pointed to the bedroom. “Carry on.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lemon
It was later than I intended to get up when Rocket finally roused me out of bed. To be fair, he’d kept me up all night. First the sex, then our talk. Then more sex. And I might have woken him a couple more times for sex. What can I say? When it’s good, it’s good.
Effie was all smiles and curiosity, but I could see the forced cheerfulness on her little face. Kid would need all kinds of therapy and getting it would be an issue since I’d decided we both needed to effectively fall off the grid. Like, forever. I’d get Wylde on that. Crush might be able to do it, but I wasn’t counting on him until I knew more about him. He might not have done anything overt, but he was still on my shit list. I had the feeling he knew way the fuck more than even Rocket thought he did. I also thought he could have kept closer tabs on Scarlet. But one thing at a time.
“I’ll have Crush give Gina a heads-up we’re coming.”
“NO!” I jumped up from bed and snagged the T-shirt Rocket had kept pulling off me last night. I’d given up trying to keep it on and just tossed it over a chair after the third round. “Don’t do that.”
He gave me a puzzled look. “Why not? She’ll want to be prepared for us.”
“Exactly.” I gave him a curt nod and marched out of the bedroom to the kitchen. I was fucking starving.
Opening the fridge, I found a pound of bacon and tossed it to the counter. Pulling out a big cookie sheet, I lined it with the bacon while the oven was heating. Once it was all laid out and in the oven, I hurried to the shower.
“What’er you doin’, sour puss?”
I looked over my shoulder as Rocket’s face split into a cocky grin. “Fixin’ to mop the floor with your smug ass.” I pointed at him. “Do not call me sour puss in front of anyone. You do, I’ll start callin’ you dumbshit.”
He leaned in and kissed me. If Effie hadn’t been awake I’d have dragged him into the shower with me. But she was. Beside, someone had to keep an eye on breakfast.
“Timer’s set for twenty minutes. I ain’t out, check on the bacon. If it’s not just this side of burned, do not touch it.”
“Burnt bacon.” He chuckled. “I like it.”
“I don’t care if you like it or not. You touch it before it’s done, you die. Capice?”
He raised his hands in surrender before heading back down the hall. “Understood, sour puss.”
“Don’t call me that!” My ire was met with his deep laugh. I made a face behind his back.
“I saw that.”
“Did not.” He pointed to a nearby mirror and I realized he probably had seen me. He hadn’t lied. “Fine. Point taken.”
I hurried through the shower. I was sore as a mother, but not from the sex we’d shared the night before. OK, I was sore from that, but not like I was from the beating I’d taken when I’d rescued Effie. And yeah. I’d given up trying to call her Euphemia even in my head, because poor kid. We’d have to come up with a road name for her. If we were going to vanish off the grid, we could totally do that. Might help her feel like she fit in.