Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Hey sis, sorry it took me a bit. I couldn’t find my keys,” Thomas says, walking around Uncle Dancer and going to the passenger side of my car.
“No, worries,” I murmur, my heart feeling as if it’s being squeezed so tight I can’t breathe. I stare in the direction Uncle Dancer was looking, and over in the far corner I see Chains. He’s talking to Nailer and Striker and there are two women hanging on each side of him. He has his arm around one and she’s… kissing the side of his neck.
The image is burned in my mind, but I turn away from it, as Thomas climbs inside my car.
“Later, Kayden,” Uncle Dancer says.
“Later,” I respond, not looking at him. “You ready to go?” I ask Thomas, feeling sick.
“Yep. Can you take me to Mom and Dad’s so I can crash?”
“Of course,” I tell him, hoping I don’t embarrass myself and cry.
“Then, let’s get out of here,” he says.
My hand shakes as I put the car in reverse.
“Drive safe, Kayden,” Uncle Dancer calls loudly so that I hear him over the vehicle as I start backing.
My head jerks up and I do my best to muster a smile for him.
“I will,” I tell him.
Against my will, my eyes go to Chains. My heart stutters in my chest when I see he’s staring straight at me. Guess he heard Uncle Dancer call my name. I don’t even think about it. I raise my hand and flip him off.
Chains can go fuck himself. I’m not about to let any man play me.
I should have stuck to my guns and never gotten involved with a biker. It sure as hell won’t happen again.
No fucking way…
12
Chains
I never expected to find Striker here. He was brought back into service by the higher-up. They wanted him to oversee a special-ops mission that I took part in. He’s standing with Nailer going on about some bullshit story that happened when I was stationed in Kabul and it brings back memories that I miss. I find myself relaxed and laughing for the first time tonight. I like the way of life in the club, because it reminds me of my military days. The sense of family, the camaraderie it all soothes something in me. It’s why I seek out a club every now and then. Still, I’ve never felt I belonged full time in one—never even wanted that. I feel more relaxed at this club than I have at the others though, which is a welcomed change, especially since Kayden is here. After the taste I had of her today, there’s no fucking way I want to leave any time soon. I had planned on leaving this week, but that’s definitely not happening now. Christ, I’m thinking about her so much that I should be running in the opposite direction. The very last thing I need to do is get tangled all up over a woman.
“Let’s get my boy some women,” Striker yells. He’s been drinking all night and feeling no fucking pain for sure.
“Nah, man. I’m good,” I tell him, waving it off. I should probably try to lose myself in some easy pussy. Maybe if I fucked Kayden out of my mind I could move on. The thing is, I don’t want it. I want her. I want her sweet moans in my ear. I want her body beneath me as I pound her hard. I want to feel her shatter and climax as I empty myself inside of her.
I want Kayden.
And, it might sound completely whacked, but I want her in a way that I know I can’t substitute with any other woman.
I stifle a groan as the women come over, plastering themselves on each side. They’re gorgeous, young and everything a man could want.
Any man but me.
I want to push them away, because honestly, it’s a waste of their time. They’re here to party and to fuck. It’s what they want and I’ve always respected a woman who knew what she wanted and made no apologies for it. But the next woman to get my dick will be Kayden. Hell, these girls are half naked, toned bodies with soft honey hair and you’d think my dick would be hard as a rock, but he doesn’t even move.
That’s probably another sign that I’m in too deep with the biker princess. Where’s my sense of self-preservation? That fight or flight instinct? Why the fuck am I not running away? Instead, I’m fantasizing about all the ways I’m going to fuck the president’s daughter.
“What do you think, Chains?” Nailer asks.
“About what?” I ask completely lost in my thoughts.
“Hah! Having trouble concentrating with Trish’s boobs pushed up in your face?”
“They’re not pushed in his face,” she says in a pouty little voice designed to make a man’s dick stand up and weep.