Rust or Ride – Lost Kings MC Read Online Autumn Jones Lake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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“Watching you with that little rabbit when I’ve been thinking of you nonstop all week was probably a bad idea.”

My heart stutters. He’s really been thinking of me all week?

“You’ve been on my mind a lot too. You’re lucky I didn’t pounce on you in the driveway.” I touch my finger to his bottom lip. “And I think you did just fine.” I give him a playful squint. “You’re quite loud. It’s really hot.”

He rumbles with laughter. “Glad you think so.”

“So, is that your thing?” I slide my finger to his chin, then trace his jawline. “You get off on watching?”

“No,” he answers without hesitating. He frowns as if searching his memory. “You’re the first person I’ve ever asked.”

“Really?” I wrinkle my nose. “From what I’ve read, motorcycle clubs have tons of young women hanging around, waiting to do any raunchy thing a biker’s heart desires.”

I’m joking, or at least it started as a joke. But it seems to touch a nerve. He lets out a dismissive grunt, pulls his arm out from under me, and rolls to the edge of the bed. For a moment, he just sits there staring at the door.

“Dex?”

“Where’s your bathroom?” he asks over his shoulder.

The abrupt shift in his mood rattles me. “I didn’t mean anything—”

“Just give me a second to clean up.”

Damn, why’d I have to open my big mouth? “Sure. Middle of the hallway on the left.”

Awkwardness crawls over my skin but it doesn’t stop me from staring at his perfect buns as he slips out of my bedroom.

“Fuck,” I mutter, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

Poor Little Roger’s still buzzing somewhere under the bed. I reach down and grab it. I pull a T-shirt out of one of my dresser drawers and slip it on, then head downstairs to use the other bathroom. He may have watched me get off and then fucked me silly, but I refuse to pee in front of him.

After the bathroom, I stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As I’m headed back upstairs, the pipes clank and rattle. Is he showering? What’s next, leaving?

The man watched my makeout session with Little Roger, so I feel justified barging into the bathroom. “Are you planning to leave?”

“What?” he calls out over the sound of the pounding water and overhead fan.

For some reason, I’m still carrying my little vibrator in my hand. I toss it in the sink and set my glass of water on the counter.

Dex pulls back the shower curtain and pokes his head out.

Dear God, absolutely no one should look that good with wet hair plastered to their face.

He flashes a grin and holds out his hand. “Join me?”

“Oh.” I stare at him like an idiot.

He raises his eyebrows and wiggles his fingers. “Hurry.”

I quickly strip off my shirt. “The hot water doesn’t last long.”

“I figured. Come on.”

I take his hand and step into the tub. The lighting is terrible, and we don’t have a ton of room to move around, so I end up sliding my body against his. Not that I’m complaining. God, he’s a solid man.

“Are we okay?” I ask.

He’s blocking the spray so the narrow stream of water has barely wet my skin.

He stares at me for a moment. “We’re fine. Why?”

My gaze latches onto tiny water droplets clinging to his lashes. I already like him so much more than I should. “What I said.” I tilt my head to the side. “I was joking.” Sort of.

“There’s always an element of truth to every joke, though, right?” he says.

Before I can open my mouth and respond, he continues.

“You’re not wrong. MCs have that reputation for a reason. That’s the attraction for some guys to join.” He shrugs. “I’ve seen plenty of shit. I didn’t ask for it, though.”

I’m not quite sure how to interpret his explanation. It’s not like he’s being held down and women are flashing their vaginas at him against his will, right?

Don’t say that.

“You said that’s why some guys join. Why’d you join?” There, that seems like a safer question.

He frowns and picks up a bottle of bodywash. “Sleep blend?”

“Yes.” I grab the bottle from his hands. “It smells good. I use this and the matching lotion. It’s part of my night-night routine.”

The corners of his mouth quirk. “Your night-night routine?” he repeats.

Do I feel like explaining all the demons that chase me in my sleep? Not really. “I don’t sleep well. So I use whatever I can to help.”

His expression shifts from amused to concerned. “Why can’t you sleep?”

I shrug. “Nothing I feel like talking about.” Especially when he not-so-subtly dodged my question about why he joined his MC. “Not when I have a hot, wet, naked man in my shower.”

He stares at me for a few beats then nods. I doubt it’ll be the last time he asks. Eventually I’ll have to tell him.


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