Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Rides like a dream, not too heavy either.” West clears his throat and winks at me. “Happy birthday, kid, come by later, Felicia cooked you up a cake.”
“I’ll be sure to. Thanks Mr. Jessop.”
He slaps the bike keys against his son’s chest as he passes and Kane spins them around his finger.
“I fixed it,” Kane says, moving to the bike and motioning for me to sit on it. I often sit on this exact bike while he works on his car or someone else’s. It’s always here but it never moves.
He looks so proud of himself. “Took me two months but I fixed it.”
“You are amazing.”
“That’s the only nice thing you’ve ever said to me,” he states with a grin.
“That’s a lie.”
“Naw. We both know it ain’t.”
“Isn’t,” I correct and he glares at me.
“Are those sirens I hear?” he jests, smacking me on the ass and squeezing, his favorite thing to do. “Did someone call the grammar police?”
Laughing I smack him back and also squeeze his incredible derriere. “Can you take me for a ride?”
“Depends what kinda ride, darlin’,” he answers, still spinning the keys. I fucking love when he calls me darlin’. Especially in his husky, gruff, gravel on concrete voice. I need Jesus to help me repent from my nasty ass thoughts about Kane Jessop.
“On this,” I motion to my favorite vehicle in the whole damn world.
“Naw. It’s not mine.” He kicks a leg over the back of it and kisses my ear.
“Your daddy won’t mind.” I’m practically begging, desperate to feel this baby purr between my thighs. West and Kane have been giving me lessons over the past few months. It was hella scary to begin with but it has been so much fun.
“Not my daddy’s either.”
“Someone bought it?” I almost want to cry. This was my bike. It has been since I was little. This was my grandpa’s bike. I might even steal it. But then where would I keep it?
“Nope,” Kane plugs in the key and wraps his arms around my waist. “I fixed it for you.”
I tense, body cement, brain not working, eyes glistening. “No you fucking did not.”
“Sure did. She’s yours.”
“Seriously?” I squeak, trying to turn to look at him but his body at my back holds me in place. “You’re lyin’.”
“Why would I lie?” He gives me a tender squeeze. “Are you cryin’, Imogen Hardy?”
“No,” I fib, wiping my tears on my wrist as I look at the speed dial and the new rubber handles.
“Don’t get sentimental on me now.”
“I’m not. I still hate you.”
“Good,” he whispers, chuckling as he bites my ear. “Let’s go pick you out some leathers that aren’t Felicia’s hand-me-downs.”
“Leathers too?” I relax back against Kane’s chest. “You’re spoiling me.”
“Too scared not to. Don’t wanna black eye again for underperformin’ my duties as your boyfriend.”
Twisting, I glower at him. “I have never given you a black eye.”
His brow raises, it’s all he needs to do to remind me of the time we were playing basketball and I accidentally elbowed him right on the cheekbone. He had a shiner for about three days.
“That was not my fault. Your head got in the way of my arm.”
“Victim blamer.”
Laughing, I twist even more so I can kiss him and then sigh with contentment. A sweet moment of calm passes between us before my heart thuds, reminding me I still live with the female equivalent of a powerless Hitler. “Mee-maw is never gonna let me on this.”
“Mee-maw won’t ever know.” He licks my ear now, making me shiver. “Show me your panties, Immy.”
“I’ll show you anything you want.”
There’s a water tower just outside of town that doesn’t get used anymore. We head there with a backpack full of food on Kane’s back who is holding onto my waist, his black and yellow helmet on his head, his protective leathers zipped to his chin.
Mine flap open a little, I like to feel the breeze on my throat.
I slow to a stop in the middle of the nowhere lane, surrounded by overgrown yellow grass and a few sparse trees.
Kane climbs off first before helping me down.
“I still feel bad that all I got you was a pair of Vans for your birthday,” I grumble, it has been eating at me ever since I got given the bike and the ridiculously expensive leathers that were from his dad and Felicia as well as Kane. I chose silver and blue. I look bad ass. Kind of like an astronaut.
“I really like those sneakers,” he argues and I know he does because he wears them a lot.
I kiss his jaw which he shaved this morning just for me I bet. Then I pull the bag off his back, almost yanking him down with it.
“You know what, Kane Jessop?” I help him shake out the picnic blanket and stomp down the long grass to make a space for us both.