Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 154037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
The one that was painted a misty, haunting gray, the metal black matte.
Low and wide.
Both menacing and screaming of freedom uncontained.
The perfect accessory to the man.
“Come here,” he said as he grabbed the black helmet he’d specially ordered for me. I crept forward, losing my breath all over again when he carefully placed it on my head, his watch intent as he buckled the strap under my chin.
Those fingers adept.
A chill rolled through me as he let them drag down the side of my neck once he had the helmet secure, then he reached out and took my hand to guide me to the bike. He slung himself over first, never releasing me, before he helped me onto the back.
He kicked it over. The loud engine grumbled, and my stomach rolled. Anticipation lighting me through.
I wondered if he had any clue how much I loved being on the back of his bike. I tucked my front right up to his back, my thighs wrapped around the outside of his legs.
Flames sparked, and I could hardly breathe.
His muscles flexed along his back as I fully pressed myself against him, my arms wrapped tight around his waist.
I guessed I was feeling reckless. Bold. Because I splayed my hands out over his abdomen, making sure one of them was directly on the spot where I’d discovered the tattoo this morning.
The one that made me question everything.
He flinched against my touch before I felt him release a heavy exhalation, some of the tension bleeding away, then he used his boots to back us out. He tapped the button on his phone to close the garage door and set the alarm, before he turned the bike around and took to the road.
There was nothing like being with Otto this way. When he was at his freest. When I could feel the strain melt away and the joy of the endless expanse of road set out ahead of us.
The wind in our hair and the sun on our faces.
Okay, fine. I didn’t mind the part where I was completely plastered against him, either.
His heat blistered into me. His big body so strong and sure as he took the winding road. Trees whipped by on either side before we got to the bottom of the hill where it opened to our small town.
He took the couple turns required to get us onto 9th Street where my shop was located, and he made a U-turn so he could pull up to the curb in front of Moonflower. His booted feet stretched out to support us as we came to a stop.
In an instant, all the easiness we’d been riding on shattered.
My fluttering heart dropped like a rock to the pit of my stomach.
Written in white spray paint across the big windows fronting Moonflower was Little bitches bleed red.
I knew that Otto had seen it at the exact same time as I did because every muscle in his body went rigid.
Rage billowed from his being as his attention raced to take in the area.
Fury streaked like a lightning strike across his flesh as he searched for any lingering threat.
There was quite a bit of traffic at this time, people rushing around to start their days. A few loitered on the sidewalk in front of my shop, taking in the spectacle.
My stomach roiled in a vat of nausea, and my head spun with dizziness.
Oh God, I thought I might be sick.
Otto put a hand on my leg and slowly turned to me.
Rage colored every inch of his face. “Stay right there.”
“Otto—”
“Mean it, Raven. You stay right there and do not move.”
He killed the engine and kicked the stand, and he managed to shift off the bike while leaving me sitting on it.
He stepped onto the sidewalk, his attention darting every direction as he scanned the area, the man a fiery blaze as he stormed toward Moonflower’s door.
There were five people standing near it, but only two that I recognized.
Pete, a kid who couldn’t be more than sixteen who was working next door at the coffee shop for the summer, and Sienna. Sienna who’d had her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself. I saw the outrage and disgust lining her face when she shifted to look behind her as Otto prowled that way.
“Anyone see anything?” he demanded as he approached.
Pete shook his head. “No, I got here an hour ago and it was like that.”
Sienna ran her hands up her arms as if she was trying to chase away shivers. “No. I just got here for my shift and heard what happened. I wanted to come and check if Raven was okay.”
The others rumbled their nos as Sienna’s gaze drifted my direction. Sympathy rippled through her features.
“It’s okay,” I mouthed.
If only saying it made it true.
Because it was one hundred percent not okay. Not when some prick, asshole, dickface had done this. And for what reason other than to be mean and rude? To scare me?