Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 93284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
My breath hitched and I quietly said, "Thank you."
He nodded and smiled, then turned back towards the bar and didn't say a thing.
Deciding not to be a total boob, I turned also and started sipping on my second beer. Thank You, Mr. Humongo.
A while later, I heard an empty hit the counter in his direction, I looked up at him in time to see him say with a rough voice, "Let's go."
Damned if my ass didn't slip off the barstool and follow him out of the bar. What the hell was I doing? I couldn't do this. I didn't do this. I was not a whore.
Okay, I'm not lying to myself. I’d be a whore for him. He was taller than I imagined, probably six foot three or four.
He led me to a Harley, pure midnight black. And it was massive. I couldn’t really tell you anymore about it. My expertise was limited to Harley and black. This was because Harley was written on the side, and black because I’ve known my colors since I was two. Now, if he had taken me out to a truck, I could tell you the year, make, model and tire size. If you started it up I could tell you what kind of motor was in it, as well as if there were any adjustments that were made to it. I could be sitting outside, and a car would pass by and I could tell you exactly what type of engine that was in it without even seeing the type of car it was. It drove Ember crazy listening to me talk about cars. James taught me everything he knew from working at Bob’s Auto. He worked there for four years before he went to basic training, and each day he would come home and he would show me everything he learned, or had done that day. We worked on his Charger, then later when I turned sixteen we started on my Chevy.
The guy straddled the bike and held his hand out for me. I held my breath and grabbed his hand. His grip was strong and steady as I lifted my leg and slid into place behind him. My breath whooshed out of me as our bodies came into contact.
Oh my god.
He handed me a helmet and I put it on. He started the bike with a quick flick of his leg and revved it up. The noise startled me at first; I wasn’t ready for the deafening noise. It was so loud that my body seemed to vibrate. I felt the vibrations deep in my lower abdomen, all the way up to my hair. He reached around my back and grabbed my ass and scooted me closer, so that I was plastered to his body. My groin was smack up against his ass. The vibration unintentionally rubbing my lady bits against the rough denim covering his lickable behind. My chest and belly were as close as I could get to his back.
He grabbed my arms and wrapped them around his lower stomach so that I had my left hand grabbing on to my right wrist right above his belt, and if I thought about it, all I had to do was move my hand slightly and I would be palming him through his jeans.
He throttled up and we were off, out of the parking lot shortly after. I happened to look to my left and noticed a man smoking, leaning against his car tracking us with his head. I locked eyes with him when we passed and a shiver ran through me when I saw the coldness in his eyes. I didn’t worry about this for long though, because the bike took a corner and my mind reminded me at that moment that I had to hang on and pay attention or my body would be visiting the pavement, and it wouldn’t feel too nice.
The ride itself was pure torture. All I could think about was him pulling over and whipping me around to straddle his thighs, ripping a hole in my jeans and thrusting into me until we both came. After I had this thought I let my hands unlock and lay flat on his rock hard stomach. His abs tensed underneath my hands and relaxed just as suddenly.
As he drove downtown and pulled onto Second St., he turned into a driveway that led me up to something that looked almost like a compound, with a fence surrounding it. This looked somewhat familiar but my brain was stuck in overdrive, I had been paying more attention to how his body felt against mine rather than where we had driven. He punched in a code on the gate, and the gate slid open. He accelerated around the garage, and parked outside another part of the building you couldn't see from the road.
Grabbing my hand to help me off, he led me inside of what looked like a small duplex. He dropped the keys in a glass on the entry way table, and had me pinned against the door before I could take another breath.
His mouth was on mine the next instant. It was like sticking my tongue to a live wire. He dominated my mouth, devoured it like I was like the last piece of cake left in a room full of starving hormonal pregnant women.
I’ve kissed a few guys, but nothing I have ever experienced could even compare to this. Pushing on his chest a little, he separated from me for long enough for me to grab a hold of the bottom of my tank and yank it up and over my head, tossing it to the floor at our feet, resuming what we were doing as soon as it cleared my head. He also separated from my mouth long enough to take his own shirt off, whipping it over his head and throwing it in the direction of the couch. I heard a clink clink, and noticed that he had dog tags that were under his shirt. Was he in the Ranger’s still? I didn’t have this thought long though because he picked me up by my ass and wrapped my legs around his waist. His left arm went around my lower back as his right slid down the back of my jeans to brush against my core. His indrawn breath stole the oxygen from my lungs when his fingers found my wetness.