Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
It was amazing, beautiful, wet, deep, wild and all of those enough to make me forget he’d given the same thing to another woman not very long ago.
In fact, I forgot everything but Buck, his body, his mouth, his tongue, and the fact that I was happy that in that moment they were all mine.
After a while (a long while), he lifted his head, and I opened my eyes to stare into his.
His were dark and hungry.
Delicious.
“Now, I’ll take you home,” he murmured, his rough voice thick.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He gave me another squeeze then he did something wrong.
He angled his head and kissed my nose before depositing me back in my seat.
That slid next to the despair, souring my stomach.
Buck put the truck into gear, released the parking brake, flipped on the turn signal and pulled into traffic.
I drifted my fingers through my hair then touched the tips of them to my lips.
I loved the taste of him, and I loved that he kissed my nose. And I loved that he ended a fight kissing me. And I loved that he took my diatribe and ended that by teasing me.
I loved it all and I hated it all, and I wondered if he did the same with Nails and whoever else was in his life.
But this was as good as I could get and I’d been so low, I reminded myself where I was now was a lot better than where I used to be.
And anyway, I was Clara Nobody.
What did I think I deserved?
Grin and bear it, my mind reminded me.
“Babe,” Buck called.
One could say I had learned my lesson.
So I looked at him.
“Yes?”
His tattooed arm came out and his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling my arm to him, sliding down. His big hand enveloping mine, he gave it a squeeze.
“I gave you all that and you didn’t even wince. Your ribs good?”
And there it was.
Thoughtful.
Worried.
Protective.
All of that awesome.
None of it really real.
“They’re fine,” I told him the truth.
“Healin’,” he muttered. “Good.”
At least that was right.
“We’ll find your girl,” he said gently, resting my hand on his thigh.
God, I hated that I loved it when he was sweet and protective.
Grin and bear it, my mind repeated to me.
Yes, I was now a biker babe and that was what a biker babe would do.
And I would be a biker babe until I needed to be the next thing I needed to be.
One thing I knew.
When I was whatever that next thing was, I’d have to grin and bear that too.
12
Gear
I stood outside on Buck’s deck, drinking a margarita and trying to find calm.
Buck had been right.
The minute Gear met me, he started flirting.
The minute Tatiana met me, however, she decided she hated me.
Actively.
Twenty minutes ago, we’d walked into his house and the kids were already there.
After Buck gave his daughter a hug and a kiss on the top of her head and slapped his son on the shoulder, he performed the introductions.
I saw that the kids were different than their pictures in his bedroom.
In the pictures, they were more kid than adult.
Now they were definitely more adult than kid.
They both looked like him and this was more than a hint.
Gear was Buck’s height, which meant, I guessed, he was six-foot, six-foot-one. His body had the same build, but it was different. His shoulders not yet as broad. His frame not as filled out.
Gear also didn’t have the command of his body like his dad had. Gear held himself loose, and although not boyish, it was cocky.
He had dark hair just like his father’s, those gorgeous brown eyes, but he also had an easy smile.
Tatiana, on the other hand, was petite.
I was five-foot-seven, but in my high heels, a lot taller.
She was wearing flip-flops and had to be five-four, at most.
She had her dad’s dark hair too, except long, cut in chunky layers—this more noticeable at the sides that fell in textured wisps from jaw to ends— and it flowed in waves down her back.
She also had Buck’s dark brown eyes.
But she had beautiful skin, peaches and cream and sheer perfection, not her father’s and brother’s olive tone.
Upon meeting me, Gear looked me up and down, gave me a lazy smile and a handshake that lasted too long.
Tatiana looked me up and down as well, her lip curled slightly, and after giving me a dagger glare, she avoided my eyes.
Buck took my shopping bags to his bedroom while announcing he was making chicken enchiladas.
This was met with a fair and surprising amount of excitement, and Gear and Tatiana instantly decided they’d bag on meeting their friends for food prior to the party and stick around for enchiladas.
This sent me straight to the tequila and margarita mix.
Both kids got out their cell phones and their fingers flew over the screens as they texted their change in plans to their friends.