Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I was doing pretty well post-surgery, but it still hurt to bend down.
Casten, ignoring the couple still bickering, walked across the room and went down on one knee directly in front of me.
There, he helped me with both shoes, fastening the delicate ankle straps as if he’d done it a million times before.
I held my breath as his large thumb swept over my ankle twice before standing up and offering me his hands.
“If y’all are in for a quick fuck, try not to use any of my furniture,” Casten commanded as he pulled me along behind him to the front door.
I gasped and slapped Casten’s arm, looking over at the couple, who was still in their own little world.
“Thanks, bro. I’ll see you at the wedding,” CeeCee waved.
I shut the door behind us, and stifled a laugh when their lips collided before I’d gotten it all the way closed.
“That happen a lot?” I asked Casten.
He grunted.
“They’re still in love with each other. Still are and always will be. They’re both stubborn, though, and refuse to give even a little,” he explained as he led me to his bike.
“Why’d they divorce?” I asked.
That didn’t sound like a normal relationship.
“Cecelia wanted to join the police department, and Joe didn’t want her to. They fought, then decided to break up,” he expounded. “In my opinion, it was a stupid fight. CeeCee only wanted to be a police officer because Joe said she couldn’t handle his job.”
“Joe’s a police officer?” I surmised.
He nodded. “He’s active duty Army. He’s MP.”
“Ahhh,” the light dawned. “So she wanted to try it because he said she couldn’t handle it. He forbid her from doing it, and she did it anyway. They broke up because neither one would listen to the other, and they still love each other.”
“You got it,” Casten nodded. “It’s nauseating at times.”
I didn’t doubt it.
“Where are you going?” I asked as he passed his truck.
He pointed at his bike.
“To my bike,” he answered, sounding like he didn’t understand where my question was going.
I blinked.
“But…why?” I pulled on my hand.
He lifted his helmet off the handlebars, and then produced another one from the other side that I hadn’t seen before.
It was purple with a huge white lotus flower on the side.
It was beautiful.
“Because it’s my main ride. And I don’t like driving in my truck. Not to mention you just said you felt good enough to ride on my bike earlier today when I took you to the grocery store for some whole wheat shit bread that you insisted you needed,” Casten added.
My eyes widened. “But I’m in a dress!”
Casten didn’t bother saying anything to that. Apparently, it was too insignificant to warrant an answer.
“Get on and stop stalling,” Casten ordered.
Gritting my teeth, I fitted the helmet over my head, knowing it would fuck my hair up, and strapped it down tight.
Then, with an evil glint in my eyes, I hiked my dress up until the bottoms of my ass cheeks peeked out from underneath, and straddled the bike.
He wanted me to get on a bike in a dress, then I’d be getting on his bike in a dress.
I scooted in close to his backside, fitting my legs up against his until there was nothing left between us. Not even air.
My panty-clad pussy was pressed up against his backside, and the tip of his wallet was pressing deliciously into certain happy spots on my body.
I wound my arms around his chest, then laid my head against him.
But I had to move when he started to squirm out of his jacket.
I watched as he took off the jacket, pulled his cut out of the saddle bags and slid it on over his red dress shirt.
He handed me his jacket.
“Put that between us and don’t lose it, ‘kay?”
I nodded, placing it between us as he’d asked, then leaned forward to rest my head on him once more.
It should’ve looked ridiculous, but surprisingly, it worked.
I knew he wasn’t going to wear his cut to the wedding.
But while he was riding his bike, he wore it because he was proud of it.
From what I’d heard Mig say, the members of the club wore their cuts whenever they could, but especially when they were on their bikes.
And, apparently, this was one of those times where he wore it because he could.
The ride to the wedding would take about an hour.
It was in a vineyard on the outskirts of Pittsburg, Texas.
From the photos I’d seen on CeeCee’s phone, it was a little upscale compared to my usual haunts.
A loud rumble had me looking up just as Casten passed another motorcycle going the opposite direction.
Casten lowered his arm to the ground, holding out two fingers.
“Did you know him?” I yelled.
Casten shook his head. “No. I didn’t.”
“Then why’d you wave?” I pushed.
“Bikers are a friendly lot,” came his muffled reply.