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)
I turned the ignition with a faint prayer and pulled out into traffic.
Chapter Three
Hunter
“Come on, lady. Purr for me.”
I twisted my hands on her undercarriage, stroking her just the way she liked it. Still, nothing.
What the hell was going on with my ride?
I cursed and sat up, wiping my greasy hands on a rag. I had a backup, but my main squeeze was acting up. I wanted nothing more than to ride my baby all day long. I still needed to clear my mind.
No final decision had been made, but I felt like I was getting booted from the damned club.
And I fucking hated it.
“Fuck this,” I decided. I needed to call the boys to take a look at her. I was missing something. And I was damned sure they would be helping my ass paint the house, too. There was a lot of work to be done, and then some.
I was still an Untouchable, dammit. At least for now. I got on the horn and called my brothers over.
Vice and Trace showed up first. Then Three Boots. Even Mason showed up, but he couldn’t stay long. It was chili day, and he had a pot going at home. He brought Jaken, the bartender from the Jar.
Apparently, the guy was a wizard when it came to motors. And painting houses. And mixing mean drinks, of course.
He wasn’t in the club officially yet, but Mase was working on him.
I knew he’d fit right in. The man knew how to keep his mouth shut. And he was even more popular with the ladies than Shane had been. Something about that Irish accent was an instant panty peeler.
Of course, just being in the club guaranteed you a fair bit of ass if you were into club girls. Being muscular and tatted as fuck definitely didn’t hurt, either. But I was tired of that shit. Most of us were except for Three Boots and Vice, another pretty boy, who both took manwhoring to the extreme.
Everyone took turns looking at Lady. Mason had a couple of ideas about what the problem could be. Trace said I should get a new ride. He favored the souped up newer motorcycles with high-tech features. I told him to go fuck himself.
“Real men don’t need Wi-Fi.”
He chuckled, totally unoffended. He was on a whole other level from the rest of us. Vice slapped his back and took a look.
“She’s fucked.”
“You would know,” I said with a dirty look. Not that I wanted to stick my dick in everything that moved, but he did look fucking relaxed all the time. So did all the married guys.
Jaken bent down and looked her over. He tapped a few places, listening. Then he turned her over, running his hands over the engine before it got too hot.
“It’s not clogged. I think the issue is wear. We need to take her apart and check every gear.”
“Lady doesn’t like to be seen without her drawers on,” I said. It was true. Every damned time she’d had work done, she got a little more finicky.
“Let him try,” Mason advised me, and I nodded.
“If you hurt her, I’ll piss in your Cheerios,” I warned Jaken. He just grinned and started taking my baby apart.
Chapter Four
Claire
I twisted to the side, trying to crack my back. It didn’t work, so I reached back and tried to knead the aching muscles. I couldn’t remember ever being so tired in my life. A long day of travel yesterday and then doing the grocery shopping for Gran and me. Then the chore of unpacking and cleaning it up before I finally sank gratefully into the worn-in chair in the living room and promptly fell asleep.
I blinked and looked around, disoriented for a minute. The well-loved furniture and wallpaper were familiar and comfortable. I stretched, realizing I felt safe and relaxed for the first time in months. Pretty much since the last time I came to visit Gran.
Home. I was finally home. No more cramped apartment filled with nursing students, one of which had the unpleasant habit of bringing home every cute guy she met.
Not that I was judging. She was living her life and having fun, though I was a little concerned that she might not actually finish school with her nocturnal activities. I just came home to eat, sleep, and study. I’d sworn off men when I started my training. Instead, I spent quite a few nights staring at the ceiling, trying to muffle out the sounds of all the sex I wasn't having.
Silence. Blissful, peaceful silence. I closed my eyes and felt myself start to drift back into my nap.
ZOOM-ZOOM!
"What the—"
I sat up and looked around. I had been half awake when I heard the unwelcome sound. It took me a minute to figure out what it was—the persistent rumble of a motorcycle.