Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
My body clamped down on him again in unconscious response as I came with him, both of us rocking on the tiny sofa. That was four times. A personal record for a year, let alone half an hour. The sexy groans he was making only prolonged my fourth orgasm. I'd never come this many times in my life, or this hard, each one bigger than the last.
Finally, he stilled. Hunter kissed my neck softly before pulling out. At that moment, a loud rumbling could be heard outside. I sat up in alarm, but he just grinned and pulled his pants back on.
"What . . . what is that?"
“It’s cool. It’s just my brothers."
I glanced out the window and my breath caught. There were about fifteen guys outside, all on massive bikes like Hunter's. Well, almost as big. His was special, that much was obvious. But they all wore jackets with matching patches.
Oh, God. Everything clicked into place. I knew instantly what club Hunter belonged to.
He wasn't just a biker. He was one of the Untouchables. It was by far the most notorious motorcycle club in Northern California.
And he was in my house.
Not just my house, he'd just been inside me.
A shiver went up my spine as I wondered what the hell I had just gotten myself into.
Chapter Eighteen
Hunter
"Come on, honey, I want you to meet the guys."
I was staring down at the sweaty beauty on the couch. She looked like she'd just been fucked. Thoroughly. I grinned.
Damn, but the girl was full of surprises.
Claire looked like an angel, but she fucked like a banshee. I'd never come that hard in my whole damn life. And I'd had a lot of tail. More than my fair share by far. But she was one for the books.
I couldn't wait to fuck her again. But first things first. I had to deal with the guys outside. After I showed her off a bit first.
She looked alarmed, though.
“Sweetheart? You okay? They won't bite."
She was hastily pulling her clothes back on. I frowned. The best damn lay of my life and now she was acting all squirrely on me.
She was more than just a lay, though. She was my old lady. Nothing would stop me from claiming her for myself after what we had just done. Not that I’d had doubts before. But now she couldn’t go back to pretending that she didn’t like me. I wouldn’t allow it.
"I think I should . . . just go to bed."
"Nuh-uh. No way, girl. Get your ass over here."
Her eyes were wide as I pulled her into my arms.
"You're my girl now, Claire. You sleep in my bed."
Her mouth dropped open. She looked so delicious and sweet. I took the opportunity to kiss some sense into her. Her eyes were soft and unfocused by the time I lifted my head again.
"Now, you’re going to come outside and meet my brothers. And then we’re going next door to do that again. Some other stuff, too."
She nodded mutely, and I kissed her again, gently spanking her ass. Hmm . . . spanking was the least of the things I wanted to do to her sweet bottom. I had ideas. Dirty, filthy, thorough ideas.
"Good girl."
I felt so damned lucky. I’d had a good feeling about moving onto this block. Just like I had a good feeling about my new woman. It was time for me to put down roots. Start a family. I’d just have to keep her too busy to get worried about all the silly rules that said what a nice girl could and couldn't do.
I had a feeling I'd have to work really hard to keep her from worrying, but I didn't mind. I looked forward to it.
A good hunter always trusted his instincts.
Chapter Nineteen
Claire
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to tug my hand free. Hunter’s massive hand held me firmly. It was clear that he was not going to let me chicken out as we walked across Gran’s front path and down the sidewalk.
And I wanted to chicken out. Badly. It was super obvious what we had just done. We looked like we had just had sex. And all of his friends were going to know it.
Judging from the cocksure grin on his face, Hunter knew it, too.
Apparently, he considered me his ‘property’ now. It rankled my feminist soul. I wanted to smack him, though I doubted he would even feel it. But a part of me was feeling something entirely different. I knew he meant it when he said he was keeping me. And it made me feel . . . safe.
Speaking of safety, his ‘brothers’, as he called them, were creating the only light for miles. They were waiting patiently to help patrol the neighborhood.
I had to admit it. I was impressed. They were organized. Responsible. Even though they looked like badasses.