Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Coy, please,” I beg, my eyes pleading up at him.
I really do want to have some fun before we end up in his room because I’m pretty sure once we end up there, we won’t be coming back out.
My plea must get through to him because he slows and lets out a big sigh. “Fine.”
Happy to finally get my way for once, I press my body against his and smile up at him. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, but I can tell by the hint of a smile on his lips he’s pleased I’m showing him gratitude. “I’m still gonna hold you to that offer later, woman.”
“Of course,” I smirk at him and stretch up to press a quick kiss on his lips.
His hands grab at my ass to pull me closer then he suddenly stiffens.
“Dammit, Allie,” he growls as I giggle and lower back down.
Reaching up, I wipe off the little bit of lipstick I left on him. “Don’t worry, you’ve already kissed most of it off me.”
“Yo, boss man,” Poster Boy calls out as he and Grem make their way toward us through the growing crowd. “We’re gonna start up a game of pool at one of the tables, wanna join us?”
For a moment it looks like Coy is going to say he wants to, but then he hesitates and finally shakes his head. “Nah, not yet. We gotta go pay our respects to my old man first.”
“Alright,” Poster Boy nods in understanding. “We’ll save a couple of spots for you.”
I tip my head up and ask Coy, “Old man?” as he begins to tug me through the sea of leather and denim.
“Yeah, my dad,” Coy grunts down at me.
The thought of meeting his dad starts to make me a little nervous.
What if his dad doesn’t like me? I think as Coy keeps pushing through the crowd with a purpose, only slowing a little to nod in acknowledgement to those who try to stop us now.
He seems determined to get to wherever we’re going, and it only amps up my anxiety.
Then I remember I’m not a stranger to Coy’s dad and that we’ve met before.
Poster Boy said Coy’s dad was excited about us getting married…
What if he’s mad at me for leaving?
That thought starts to make sick, and it certainly doesn’t help that the cloud of smoke in the air seems to get thicker the closer we get to the back of the clubhouse. By the time we reach a corner where a group of older, grizzly looking bikers sit, I’m pretty sure I have both a contact buzz and second-hand lung cancer.
The older guys are laughing and carrying-on, and don’t even seem to notice Coy and me at first until Coy steps right up to the black-haired guy seated directly in the middle of a semi-circle of chairs. The way everyone is turned a little toward the guy in the middle, I get the impression he’s in charge and holding court.
“Old man,” Coy grunts to get his attention.
Mid-laugh, the man looks up at Coy with a look of annoyance at first, like he’s pissed someone is bugging him.
Then, once he recognizes Coy, he breaks into a grin. “Son.”
Coy nods his head and then the man’s dark blue eyes drift toward me.
The grin on his wrinkled face seems to falter and that ball of dread in my stomach tightens.
Then his grin suddenly stretches wide, showing his yellowed teeth in his dark beard, and he stands up from his chair.
“Allison, girl. ‘Bout time this son of mine brought you around to see me!” he bellows.
Before I can prepare myself, he’s pulling me away from Coy, wrapping me up in a great big bearhug, and squeezing the shit out of me.
It’s pretty obvious where Coy gets his size from, even hunched over a little, his dad is just as tall as him.
I’m on the verge of completely suffocating to death when he finally pulls away and holds me out in front him. “Let me have a look at ya.”
I cast a help me look back at Coy, but he smirks and shakes head.
Fucker, he could have warned me.
“Just as pretty as ever. Haven’t changed a bit!” he declares, and most of the older guys around us nod or murmur in agreement.
“Come, sit with me, girl. I wanna know what you’ve been up to,” he says and tugs me toward his chair.
For a second, I’m afraid he’s going to try and make me sit on his lap or something, but then that annoyed, pissed off look returns.
Glaring at the white-haired biker sitting in the chair to the right of his, he barks, “Get the fuck up, Lizard, and make room for the mother of my grandson.”
And now I know where Coy gets his cranky, overbearing attitude from.
“What?” the white-haired guy says, looking up, confused.