Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
His fist flew over his cock as he imagined the ways he’d take her. How hot it would be. How hard they’d both come.
Even the need for lube to eliminate the sting of a dry fist didn’t give him pause. He fucked his hand until it grew slick with precum. Barely a few minutes passed before he imagined Brenna bent over his bike with her gorgeous ass on display for him, and his dick erupted like a fucking geyser.
His shout couldn’t have been stopped even if he’d gagged himself.
Did Brenna hear him? If so, would she guess why he’d yelled?
Did she wonder if he was lying one room over, covered in a puddle of his cum?
Would she have any idea she was the sole reason?
CHAPTER NINE
“WELL, YOU’RE A massive coward, aren’t you?” Brenna stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror behind Lock’s guest room door.
She’d stayed away from the house long past dinner, then snuck in when Lock typically bathed Caleb, only to hide in her room like she’d done the first night. During the sleepless hours, she’d told herself she’d merely wanted alone time to prepare to see Oliver.
It was a stressful thing, confronting the ex who’d set her up for a terrible ordeal.
But in the light of day, as she dressed in a sexy leather miniskirt and skimpy crop with the sole goal of an eat-your-heat-out moment with Oliver, she couldn’t lie to herself any longer.
She’d been too chickenshit to spend more time alone with Lock. Somewhere over the past few days, she’d caught feelings on top of how badly she wanted him physically. Her reason for staying with him, hell for knowing him, would disappear in a few short hours. She’d be back home, and the past few days would be nothing but a brief intermission for her regular life. The smart thing was to cut ties last night, even if it felt like cowardice at this very early hour of the morning.
With one last glance in the mirror, she nodded, then ran a hand over her hair. She looked good, strong, and sexy in a way Oliver had never seen, probably because she’d never dressed like this before and had only purchased these clothes yesterday.
“Fuck you, Oliver.”
She opened the door and stepped into the hallway only to stop dead at the sight of Lock.
His jaw dropped, and his eyes bugged. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered. “Forget bringing a gun… you’re a goddamn weapon all by yourself.”
Her face heated. “Thank you?”
He groaned and stared up at the white ceiling before looking at her again. “You are out for blood, woman, aren’t you?”
Cocking her head, she stared at him. “He deserves it, don’t you think?” Lock looked good, too, dressed in dark jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged his frame and did nothing to dissuade her from wanting him.
“Deserves death by blue balls?” He chuckled. “You’re cold, baby, but fuck yes, he deserves it and more. Unfortunately, you might take a few of us out with him.”
Her breath caught in her lungs. He didn’t mean it. Calling her baby was nothing more than banter. But it sounded so good—too good. She wanted him to say it again. And again. As he took her clothes off. As he touched her. As he thrust—
Shit.
She cleared her throat. “We should go. Spec said five.” The air between them felt so thick she could practically see it hovering.
For a moment, he didn’t speak, and she thought, feared, and prayed he would close the distance, put his hands on her, grab her, and kiss her until her mind blanked. Her heart thudded a slow, powerful rhythm of anticipation as the heat in his gaze scorched her very exposed skin.
But then he cleared his throat and jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go. Caleb’s sitter just got here.”
Her throat was too dry to talk, so she only nodded once.
He lifted a hand, indicating she should walk ahead of him, so she did. She spun on one spiky heel—how the hell did Liv wear these damn things all the time—then strutted down the hallway. The groan he didn’t bother to hide let her know the skirt hugged her ass just the way she’d hoped.
“Give me fucking strength,” he muttered.
Brenna’s lips twitched.
They said a quick goodbye to the sitter, who told Brenna she was fire, and then went outside.
“We’re taking the bike.” He pointed toward the open garage where he kept his motorcycle
That had her stopping in her tracks. “What? I can’t ride in this getup. My whole ass will be on display.” She indicated to her skimpy clothes.
Lock smirked. “I don’t mind. Consider it your tax for making me suffer all morning.”
“Suffer?” She shook her head. What did he mean? She scanned him up and down until—“Oh.”
Another of those sinful smirks. “Yeah. Oh. Get on the damn bike while I can still drive.”