Total pages in book: 212
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
She went slow, hips circling, then alternating to rocking back and forth. I wanted faster, so I let one hand go so I could rub her clit.
“Faster, baby,” I encouraged.
My girl complied. But not fast enough, so as she started to whimper, juddering as I took her to climax, I did an ab curl and put her on her back, our heads at the bottom of the bed. I hammered my hips into hers while pinning her wrists over her head. I put my mouth to the skin above her collarbone, planning to leave another mark to be seen by fuckin’ everyone who laid eyes on her.
“Another hickey?” she asked, giggling.
“This is your Property of Jesse throat tatt,” I grunted.
She giggled louder.
“My second favorite sound of yours.”
“What’s your first fave?”
“You’re about to make it.”
I grabbed a handful of her hair and the thought of why she cut her hair slid through me with warmth. To help someone. A bitchy aunt that didn’t deserve the wig she was having made for her. Effort – trying to fit in with my club. And the style – chosen to make a point to a fuckhead who was the biggest source of her fear about fitting in with my club.
I was giving this girl more patience than I’d given to anyone. Because it felt like there would be a payoff. A big one. That being seeing her always the way she looked now. Happy. Free. Basking, because I was making my feelings clear.
Our gazes locked and I came with her legs wrapped around me, hands tightly clasped with hers against the mattress. I whispered, “Baby.”
“Jesse,” she whimpered.
Yeah. That was my first favorite sound of hers.
***
I was back from the john, lighting a joint. She was asleep on her belly, on my side of the bed, looking absolutely stunning. Peaceful. Mine.
The blanket was down low, at her knees, so I could see her gorgeous ass on display, that tiny thong still askew from my fucking her. Her skin smelled like candy again, her hair like oranges. As soon as we got here she’d given me what I asked for by showering, so she’d smell the way I liked.
I wanted Skippy Fuckhead Ford to fucking pay for the bullshit he’d pulled on her. I was in a tough spot being that we were in the same MC and that he had more than ten years with the club, where I didn’t even have one.
My eyes were open. The first clue I had that he was fucking with her again or fucking over anybody that didn’t deserve it would not go unanswered. Yeah. I was learning patience. He would fuck up one way or the other and I’d go for his goddamn throat.
I didn’t need to go back downstairs or even down the hall in either direction to celebrate more with the brothers. I needed to be in my sheets with my Gigi.
***
There was a big club breakfast happening in Deke’s Roadhouse. And I was pissed off. Because she didn’t want to go.
I woke her up with my tongue between her legs and she was smiling, satisfied, pretty well glowing when she left my room to take a shower.
When she was back, she was withdrawn.
“Something happen in the bathroom?” I asked.
“Mostly dirty looks.”
“Mostly?”
She shook her head and I let it go. I let it go because I was thinking I needed to figure out how to tackle this problem head on, so she didn’t have to.
“Let’s head down for breakfast.”
Her phone pinged. And then it pinged again almost immediately afterwards. She glanced at it, then muttered, “I’ll answer her later.”
“Who?”
“Tracy.”
I glanced at her screen.
Tracy: Hey!
Tracy: Comin’ for breakfast?
“Too bad she doesn’t live here. I really like her. She tells it like it is. She’s got a momma bear mentality.”
“Saw she was takin’ your back last night with Skip’s bitch. Not surprised. Vic and her haven’t been together long. She started as a hang-around,” I advised. “So she gets your position here.”
“I know,” she said softly, “She got scooped up fast though so no time for her to get pigeonholed. Not everyone is so lucky.”
“How about you look ahead instead of behind,” I suggested, pulling on a clean long-sleeved t-shirt.
“I’m lucky now. You’re worth the wait. Worth the bullshit.”
I assessed her face; she did not seem to be feeding me bullshit.
“Then stop worrying about what that bitch thinks.”
“Gonna try and keep reminding myself to do that, baby,” she said softly. “Not easy when someone’s there trying to make you look back though.”
“She’ll get over it or I’ll do something about it, okay?”
“You don’t need to do anything about it. I refuse to cause problems between you and your club. I’ll deal, Jesse. But I’m not really feeling breakfast though.”
“At least come down and make an appearance. Just a quick one.”