Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Willow pushed those memories from her mind, because she hated the guilt that came with it. Her father had tried, and she would find herself hoping that the next year would be different. It never was. After New Year, it didn’t even take twenty-four hours for him to fall back into his old ways, and she went to being nothing.
“Do you … love Christmas?”
“As it happens, I do. I’ve always been a sucker for it, even as a kid.” Rebel shrugged. “I loved the lights and the bright colors. I know, crazy as fuck, huh?”
“Did your parents love it?” she asked.
“Didn’t have any parents, babe. Spent a lot of my time in and out of juvie, and then on the streets.”
“Oh.”
“Still didn’t stop me from loving Christmas. It’s good.”
Her father had gotten arrested a few times and she had to go and bail him out. One of the cops had known their situation and was more than happy to pretend she was of age. Her father never actually did anything wrong, he was just a drunk. There was one time she hadn’t been able to bail him out because she didn’t have the money. It was then her father opened a bank account for her and started to transfer funds into it. When she left, Willow hadn’t taken the card with her. She had opened a new account and started life afresh.
Returning home, she had found the old account, and when she went to check the funds, she’d been surprised to see that her father had still been transferring money into that account, and it had accumulated. She used it to change the living quarters above the bar. Bill had upgraded the building’s security system, so she didn’t have to worry about that.
Willow had no idea what kind of life Rebel had. She thought about his leather cut. He was a member of an MC. She didn’t know all the rules around clubs or much about his. She had done some research this past year, but it didn’t matter what she read. None of it seemed to match Rebel.
“Is that why you joined an MC?” Willow asked.
“I was wondering when you were going to start asking me about my club. Not going to lie, I figured it would be much sooner than now.”
“You … don’t bring them to the bar.”
“The boys know to keep their distance for now.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Didn’t want to scare you and I didn’t join the club, babe. I started it.”
“You started your club?”
“Yep.” He finished off his food and sat back. Willow got a little distracted by his body on display. She tried to bring her thoughts back to his club, and not imagining his body all over hers.
“How?”
Rebel shrugged. “There was me, a bunch of guys that I had started to hang around with, and it developed from there. We got a bit of a reputation, and it seemed only right to put a name to that, so we did.”
“Rebel MC.” She smiled. “It’s named after you.”
“You got it.”
“So your name really is Rebel Constantine?”
“Yep.”
She nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” And she wanted to slap her hand against her forehead. What the hell was she doing? This wasn’t some nice conversation. They had fucked less than an hour ago downstairs. Rebel was naked, sitting beside her. She had no idea what to do or say. Words failed her.
“Forget what I just said.”
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, and just so you know, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Willow.” He stroked a finger up her arm.
She had already finished her food. Rebel stood up and took their bowls.
Had she misread his intention? Willow was about to get up when Rebel’s lips were on the back of her neck, kissing just above that pulse that felt so good.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Her nipples felt tight.
“Then touch yourself. Tell me if you’re wet.”
She whimpered.
“Put your hand on that sexy little cunt and see if you’re wet for me.”
Willow felt a pulse between her legs. She loved it when he talked dirty and she loved the feel of his lips on her neck. Reaching between her thighs, she should have known she was wet. Not only was she wet, she was soaking wet, dripping.
“Are you wet for me, Willow?”
“Yes.”
“Let me see.”
She frowned. What did that mean?
It was like Rebel could read her mind. “Show me your fingers.”
Willow lifted her hand up for him to see, and she saw in the light they were wet from her arousal. She didn’t know if she should be embarrassed or not.
Rebel grabbed her wrist and then drew her fingers close to his face. She didn’t know what he was about to do but then he sucked each finger into his mouth.
“More.”
Willow felt the nerves in her stomach, but she did as he asked, even though it felt strange and good all at the same time. She held her fingers up again and he sucked them dry. He made her do this several times, and then he moved her, lifting her onto the table, and spreading her legs.