Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Totally fine,” Triss said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
Then we were all shuffling into cars.
There was a pause after Donovan started the car up again, his hand landing on my thigh, giving it a squeeze.
“Give me forty minutes to get you home, and then you can let all that repressed anxiety out, okay?” he asked.
“Okay,” I agreed, giving him a smile because, well, he got me.
And that was what every one of us wanted, wasn’t it?
Someone who got us.
As it would turn out, though, I hadn’t really even begun to know Donovan at all…
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Donovan
It had been my worst fucking nightmare.
I never raced with a passenger because I didn’t like the idea that a single mistake on my part could end someone else’s life.
I was fine taking those chances with my own, not someone else’s.
And damn sure not Maeve’s life.
I mean, it wasn’t my fault in the moment. It wasn’t the driving fast that had been the problem. It was the goddamn car following us.
If I had been alone, I might have pulled a move to whip the car to face them, jumped out, shot out some tires, drawn them out of the car, and seen who they were.
But I had to think of Maeve.
And avoiding a potential shootout was the best thing I could do for her.
So I had to scare the shit out of her by pulling some precision driving off at alarmingly high speeds to lose the car, and get us hidden until reinforcements showed up.
I don’t think I’d ever felt anxious about driving before, but there was no denying that my nerves felt shot when I parked the car behind the garage and could finally check on her.
I think I expected yelling, crying, shaking. Something, anything that showed how freaked out she was.
But, interestingly enough, adrenaline didn’t make Maeve crumble. It made her, well, horny.
I never could have anticipated it.
But, holy fuck, was it hot to witness, to be a part of.
She shed all of that uncertainty and insecurity she wore like a cloak, and took control of the situation, of her desire, and, in turn, mine as well.
I’d figured that if things were going to progress with us, that sex was going to have to wait until my arms and legs were healed, so I could be the one to take charge.
I was glad to be wrong.
Because, fuck, being inside of her was a surreal experience.
I don’t think I’d ever felt quite as present during sex as I’d been right then, the windows fogging up around us, complete silence all around. Save for her whimpers and moans and cries as she came.
It had been kind of shocking to go from that to rushing to dress before the guys showed up. I wasn’t sure the blood had even fully returned to my brain as I turned to face the guys with all their questions.
I had more to go on than Maeve and Triss had when I’d been run off the road. But only because I had a better eye for cars. And what kind of adjustments had been made to that one to allow it to move like it did.
“There are other places to buy parts in the general area,” Che said. “But we will have Sass and Eddie run the books to see if they have sold all this kind of shit to one person. Especially if that person was driving the car you mentioned.”
It was a start.
But the look on Huck’s face told me that he didn’t think it was going to be enough.
I knew what he was going to demand before he even opened his mouth.
“We are going to have to have a meeting with them.”
“Which ones? Russians or Italians?”
“Figure start with the Italians since they don’t hate you quite as much. Then go on from there if that is a dead-end. I get it’s going to fucking suck, but we can’t keep putting these girls’ lives at risk like this.”
That was a point we clearly both agreed on.
It wasn’t fair that Maeve had twice now been in danger because of me and if not the club as a whole, then my past.
Though, yeah, it was definitely looking a lot like it had to do with me, not the club. No one else had been followed or run off the road.
“Are you okay?” Maeve asked from the passenger seat as we closed in on the clubhouse and hadn’t spoken since before we’d taken off.
“That’s my line.”
“Well, I’m borrowing it,” she said. “You’re tense.”
“Yeah. Almost getting you killed twice will do that,” I admitted.
“I really don’t think you can take the blame for some idiot chasing us like that,” she reasoned.
“Unless that idiot is targeting me, and sees you as acceptable collateral damage. You could have been killed. Or traumatized.”
“Hey, Donovan?” she called, voice surprisingly soft as I parked the car in the driveway.