Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 804(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
After I said that, his face changed, his body went still, and he stared at me in a way that made my face get hot, my belly get warm, and my heart start to pound.
After what felt breathtakingly like years (but was, sadly, merely seconds), he dropped his head and kissed my nose before he pulled back half an inch.
“Then you hold on, gorgeous, long’s you like,” he whispered. “And I’ll roll with you.”
“Buck—” I whispered back, thinking somehow this was a profound moment and wanting to ask why, but he pulled out and rolled to his back so I was on top.
“Go get cleaned up,” he ordered, his fingers digging into my hips.
“What?”
One of his hands left my hip and cupped the back of my head, pulling my face close.
“Clara, honey,” he said softly, “you attacked me before I got to eat you. And I been waitin’ to eat you for fuckin’ days. Now you need to go get cleaned up and come back so I can eat you.”
God, we’d just finished.
And it was good.
Really good.
And he was ready to go again.
After what he just said, so was I.
“Okay,” I whispered, touched my mouth to his, climbed off him, and one could say I did not take my time (at all) on my way to (and from) the bathroom.
* * *
I was in a sex haze that was quickly segueing into unconsciousness.
Both of us had made the effort, that was evidently taxing, to muffle each other’s noises so the kids wouldn’t hear should they be awake.
Still, I’d had three orgasms, two from Buck’s cock, one from his mouth.
So that was mostly why I was out of it and drifting to sleep.
“Apparently,” his voice rumbled from his lips and his chest, the last of which I heard beneath my ear where it was resting, “wouldn’t suck for you either, I knocked you up, the way you go at my dick when it’s ungloved.”
My eyes popped open.
Oh God.
We’d done it again!
Or…
I’d done it again because he’d definitely (both times) tried to work that in, and I hadn’t let him.
Was this subconscious?
Now that I’d seen that cute little baby boy with Buck’s brown eyes in my head, was I trying to get pregnant?
Oh God!
I needed to get smart.
And fast.
“Condoms from now on,” I told his muscled flesh.
“Right,” he said, his voice shaking (and other bits of him shaking too) with humor.
I lifted my head. “Buck—”
He cupped the side of my face.
“Worry about it when there’s somethin’ to worry about,” he reminded me.
“Condoms or no sex at all from now on,” I threatened.
“Whatever you say, Toots,” he murmured, still sounding amused.
Hells bells.
Well, one thing he was right about, there was nothing I could do about it now.
I settled back in, thinking possible pregnancy, when Buck and I were so new and my life was still a shambles, was for certain going to mess with my perfect track record of great sleep at Buck’s house.
I was wrong.
16
Happiness Is Pop-Tarts
“Ace in the Hole Home Improvement and Contracting, this is Clara, how can I help you?” I said into the phone, holding it to my ear with a shoulder hitched, my fingers sifting through files in the filing cabinet.
“Hola, querida,” Mrs. Jimenez replied, and I smiled just as I tensed.
I’d been working in the office at Ace for three weeks.
I started the Monday after my first weekend with Gear and Tatiana.
That day, I rode down on the back of Buck’s bike (and learned why biker babes wore bandanas on their hair—blowout disaster—so, while Buck searched for the “perfect helmet” (his words) for me, I’d unearthed some scarves and used those, one was Hermès, the others were Alexander McQueen and Prada, all I’d save for the new jobs I never got—these didn’t scream “Biker Babe!” but they kept my hair under control, and by the by, riding on the back of Buck’s bike with Buck was everything).
He took me into the office—the extremely messy office—and let me loose.
By letting me loose, I meant he didn’t give me a hint of instruction.
This was because, in his words, he didn’t know “shit” about the office.
The only clue he gave me was to find a man named Chap who’d show me around.
Though, he did not share where I might find said Chap.
What he did say was, “Chap’s always around somewhere…except when he’s not.”
Obviously, not at all helpful.
Chap was short for, I would learn later (from Chap, after I eventually found him), “Chaplain” which was his role in the Club.
Something else I’d learn later was that this meant, mostly, he was the resident sage who all the men took their “shit” (Buck’s and Chap’s word) to, or he was the voice of reason when there was dissension among the men.
And I found Chap was sage.
Though I figured, for the most part, this was his role simply because he was the oldest member of the MC.