Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Sparky grins and lifts his chin at Dex. “Hey, did I tell you about the new strain I’m developing?”
“No,” Dex answers with a cautious note in his voice.
“Don’t ask,” Wrath warns.
“I’m mixing laxatives and weed. Guess what I’m calling it?” Sparky presses a fist to his lips like he’s trying to swallow the answer.
Dex inhales a slow, patient breath. “Shits and giggles?”
“Aw, man.” Sparky tips his head back and presses his hands over his eyes. “Did I already tell you that one?”
“No,” another biker says. “It’s obvious as fuck.”
“Bet you weren’t expecting ‘botany for the insane’ this morning, were you?” Rooster asks, smiling down at me.
“That was not on my Bingo card,” I agree.
“No one will ever believe ya if ya try tellin ’em hanging out with the Lost Kings Motorcycle Club is ninety percent sex jokes and weed puns,” Shelby says.
“If weed puns are a sin, I’ll see you inhale,” Sparky giggles into his hands.
Shelby shakes with laughter. “Cute.”
“Wait, what’s the other ten percent?” Sparky asks.
Shelby shrugs. “Sex on pool tables? I’ve been to a bunch of ya’lls clubhouses now. Ain’t seen one of ya use a pool table for its intended purpose yet.”
“That’s the appeal,” another bearded biker says. “Fornicating on objects not meant to see that kind of action.”
Rooster slides a slow look at his friend. “Fornicating? Really?”
I laugh and press myself close to Dex’s side. “They’re right. This is not at all what I expected.”
Rooster’s friend moves in and rakes his gaze over me. “I missed you last night.”
Dex holds me tighter. “Jigsaw, this is Emily. Emily, Jigsaw is the RC at our downstate charter.”
“Oh! Dex’s job,” I blurt out.
Jigsaw flicks an amused glance at Dex.
“Be nice, Jiggy,” Shelby warns.
“I’m always nice, songbird.”
“Debatable,” Shelby mutters, cracking up the guys.
“Oh, there’s Trinity,” Shelby shouts, jumping up and waving her hand wildly. “Dex, can I borrow your girl?” Shelby asks, gripping my arm in a tight hold that suggests she won’t accept no for an answer.
Rooster hooks his finger in the hood of Shelby’s sweatshirt, dragging her backward. He leans down, whispering something in her ear, then plants a long, lingering kiss on her lips.
“For fuck’s sake,” Jigsaw moans. “She’s gonna be ten feet away.”
Without coming up for air, Rooster throws out a hand, hitting Jigsaw in the chest and shoving him into Sparky.
“Clowns,” Dex mutters to me. “I told you.”
I loop my arms around his neck and lean up to kiss his cheek. “You’re wrong. Your brothers are way more entertaining than clowns.”
“That’s what I’m sayin’!” Shelby squeals and pats my shoulder.
“Better looking too, right?” Jigsaw asks, smoothing a hand over his beard.
“Absolutely.”
Jigsaw gives Dex a smug smile.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Shelby promises, finally managing to pull me away from the guys.
We meet up with Trinity near what looks like a bar area. A few guys are sitting on stools, sipping coffee. I run my gaze over the bikers already in the clubhouse, checking if Grayson’s here.
“Look, Trinity!” Shelby announces. “We finally got Emily here.”
Finally? I didn’t realize they’d been waiting for me to make an appearance.
Trinity flashes a quick smile. “Sorry I missed you last night.”
“That’s okay.”
“Come on.” Trinity urges us down a long, wide hallway. “Did anyone give you a tour of the clubhouse?” she asks over her shoulder.
“No, it was already kind of packed when we got here,” I answer.
She slows her rapid steps and points to a swinging door on our right. “Bathrooms. We keep pretty much any feminine items you might need stocked in there.”
“Uh, good to know. Thanks.”
Trinity nods and continues walking, slower this time. “This used to be the champagne room.” Her lips tilt into a sly smile. “We use it mostly for yoga now.”
Shelby snorts. “The unholy things that happened in there last night had nothin’ to do with yoga.”
“Seriously?” Trinity sighs. “Damn. I thought we finally won that battle.”
“Ravage ain’t playin’,” Shelby laughs.
Shaking her head, Trinity continues. Another hallway branches off to our right. “Laundry room’s down there. Gym. A few rooms for people who live here full-time.”
She slaps her hands against the right side of a double-swinging door and leads us into a cafeteria-style dining room, big enough for a college dormitory. A bigger, more official looking bar runs the entire length of the back wall. A large coffee station is set up there now. Vibrant murals of the Lost Kings Motorcycle Club’s logo decorate the walls.
Trinity points to the bar. “Coffee’s over there. Serena says you’re a tea drinker? There should be hot water and tea bags too. The selection isn’t great but if you let me know what you prefer, I’ll try to have some on hand,” she says, as if she expects me to be here often.
Such a simple thing, but her words wrap around me like a hug.
“Kitchen’s through here.” Trinity marches ahead and pushes open another swinging door.