Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
I’m trying to keep the offer light, not implying that she can’t do it on her own because she’s been doing fine without me. But I don’t mind helping. Especially her.
“I could think of a few things you could use them for.” Her voice is also teasing but holds a seductive purr that almost makes me rethink all my plans.
I could just stay here for a while, go inside and hang out with Dani, and not deal with any of my family’s shit. It’s a tempting proposal for so many reasons.
But after yesterday’s incident, Kayla texted that I’d better be at this family dinner or she would hunt me down and make things very unpleasant for me. Normally, I’d tell her to bring it on. Hell, I’d welcome the challenge and excitement of going toe-to-toe with her. But I feel like there are scars too close to the surface right now and she might be able to wipe me out, intentionally or not. Plus, I have Dani to consider, and while Kayla wouldn’t hurt Dani—unless she hurt me—she’d definitely use Dani as a tool to poke and pry at me.
“Will you go for a ride with me?” I ask out of nowhere. My voice has gone serious and dark with my thoughts, nothing like Dani’s flirtiness, and she sobers.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just need to clear my head of some shit and a ride always helps.” I scrub my hand over my face, feeling overwhelmed, and I haven’t even told Dani anything yet. “I know you usually go to your parents’ on Sundays, but—”
“I already took them lunch,” she interjects. “Let me grab my shoes.” She gives me a look of worry before she hustles inside. A couple of minutes later, during which I mentally yell at myself for being such a weak bitch, she’s back. She’s put on her green Adidas and pulled her hair into a braid, and as she locks the front door, I take a long look at her.
This might be the last time I see her like this—open, trusting, looking at me like I’m worth a damn. When she steps up to the bike, I grab her hip, pulling her in for a kiss, needing to taste her one more time before I blow shit up between us.
She tastes like hope, like the dream I said I don’t have but am quickly developing, with her front and center as the main character.
When I let her go, her lips tilt up in a faint smile, but there’s a question brewing in her eyes. I don’t give her a chance to ask about my sudden moodiness, nor do I offer an explanation. I pull the helmet carefully over her head and help her on behind me, pulling my sunglasses on. When she wraps her arms around my waist, it feels like she’s holding me together.
And as I pull down her street, I can’t help but feel like I’m driving myself to my own destruction. Still, even though I want to put off the inevitable, I speed us to the highway, needing the rush of the wind against my face and in my hair. Dani runs her hands up and down my thighs like she can feel the tension in my body, and though she doesn’t understand it, she wants to help. I arch, needing relief, and her hand brushes over my cock. I’m in control of the bike, but she’s in control of me, and I feel my head unconsciously tilting back as I try to keep my focus on the road.
I could just keep going. We could keep going… riding, touching, fucking, and avoiding everything else. It’s a tempting idea.
I take the next exit, turning at the light to get us away from watching eyes.
It doesn’t take me long to find a long stretch of deserted road with no one around for the last few miles. I pull over, finding a section of asphalt well off the roadway where we’ll be safe even if someone does come by.
Not for what she thinks, though. And not for what I want.
I could fuck her again, make that memory like I did with the kiss as a just in case so I have it to remember her by when she tells me to leave her alone. But I’m not that much of an asshole, despite what some people might think.
As I shut the bike off, I can see her in my side mirror, pulling the helmet off and looking around. “Here?” She doesn’t sound entirely opposed to the idea.
Before I lose my guts, I put my hand on her thigh and blurt out, “Will you go to my family dinner with me?”
She makes a tiny gasping sound, and I drag my eyes from where my hand is on her leg to her face. She looks shocked at my question.