Special Kind of Twisted (Gator Bait MC #6) Read Online Lani Lynn Vale

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, Erotic, MC, Sports, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Gator Bait MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
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Either way, they still had to deal with the drainpipe hair like the rest of us.

I twisted the knobs of the shower and shut the water off.

When I stepped out, it was to see him half-dressed, staring at me with curiosity.

“What?” I reached for the towel that wasn’t there.

He grinned at me and said, “Where are they?”

I pointed at the vanity next to his butt and said, “Under there.”

He nodded and reached for it, tossing a towel directly at my face the moment he closed his hand over it.

I caught it in time, but barely.

“Thanks,” I drawled.

He winked. “Any time.”

His grin got more and more lecherous as I dried my body of water. He moved then, his gaze intense, and stopped just short of touching me.

He lifted his finger and said, “You missed a spot.”

I didn’t look down.

In fact, I dropped the towel, then launched myself at him.

He caught me with one hand around my upper thigh, lifted me, and then slammed his mouth down on mine. His other hand went to the wall to steady us.

“Condoms,” I said.

“You’re on your period. Not a good time for pregnancy,” he said, all knowledgeable and shit.

I agreed, otherwise, I wouldn’t have allowed him to slip that hot, hard cock into me in the next second.

“Fuck,” he growled.

“My ass,” I whispered, feeling a burn in my outside butt and thigh area. “I can’t keep holding on like this.”

I wasn’t an athletic person. Davis might very well be able to hold me up and fuck me for the amount of time that it would take for me to come. However, if his intention was for me to get off, then he’d be waiting a while.

His dick might be thick and long and magical, but it definitely wasn’t enough to make me forget about the way my buttocks were burning from the strain of holding myself up with them.

He chuckled against my neck, then repositioned his hand so that he was holding more of me up—which I might add was a little too close to the back door for me to be comfortable—and twisted.

Seconds later, we were both sitting on my counter. Or he was, bare-assed might I add, and I was in his lap with my knees digging into the old linoleum.

Perfumes rattled, bottles were pushed to the side, and I was fairly sure my one and only beauty product I regularly used—facial cleanser—was on the ground now.

I didn’t care, though, because this new position not only took the pressure off my outside thighs and booty but it also made it to where he got extremely deep inside of me.

I groaned and twisted my hips, circling myself on top of him.

His hand squeezed, reminding me it was there.

I licked my dry lips and looked up so that I was staring into those intense gray eyes.

“You can move your hand now,” I squirmed.

His eyes seemed to light from within. “What’s wrong with my hand where it’s at?”

The way his voice rasped set my blood on fire.

“It’s very close to other ‘never going to happen in this lifetime’ areas,” I told him.

The corner of his mouth kicked up, and just when I felt those fingers loosen, I realized that they weren’t moving in the right direction. They were moving in the wrong direction.

The direction where no fingers, not even mine, went.

I tensed, causing him to grunt in response to the way I clamped around him.

“Relax,” he said as he used his free hand to slip up the length of my spine.

“You relax,” I leaned forward and caught his lip between my teeth, biting gently. “It doesn’t look like your asshole is about to get touched.”

He let me bite him as he continued to move that finger.

Just the brush of it over that small, tight area was enough for me to let his lip go and moan.

Whoa. What the hell was that?

“Whoa,” I breathed. “What was that?”

The mirroring of my thoughts wasn’t intentional. In fact, I’d very much meant to not say that.

But he answered my unintentional question anyway.

“That’s a thousand nerve endings of eroticism.” He growled, then caught his free arm around my waist and started to lift me up and lower me back down.

I helped eventually when he left his hand that was touching me there completely still.

It was when I was getting back into it, feeling really fine, that he moved that hand by pressing inward.

I would’ve stilled again, but he wouldn’t let me. He kept forcing me up and down at that slow, delicious pace, so I had no other choice but to go along for the ride.

Just the forbiddenness of him touching me there was enough to set my nerve endings on fire.

I was way too close for where he was touching me. I shouldn’t like it as much as I did.

And I sure the hell wasn’t about to come.



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