Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
She didn’t miss it.
“The question bears repeating, Dutch, why did you stop?” she asked.
That made him smile.
And also answer.
“Georgie, you’re the kind of girl I need to take on a date. Buy you dinner. Tell you how pretty your hair is. Your mouth. Your voice. How much I like your ass. All that before I fuck you.”
She made a noise that was half soft gasp, half gentle whimper, and his dick actually started to hurt, straining against his jeans.
“Not to mention, we might need to sort through a few issues before we rip each other’s clothes off and get busy,” he finished.
“Am I in danger of you ripping off my clothes?”
“Absolutely.”
Her eyes got bigger, then they got sultry in that hot way a woman who knows she’s got control of your cock gets, before she suggested, “Okay, just a suggestion, but maybe if you want to cool things down, you should let me go.”
He got on that, but he did it shifting them so his back was to the door and his body was barring it.
Only then did he let her go.
She stepped away, now appearing amused.
“After that kiss, I’m hardly going to run into the night,” she told him.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
“Whatever,” she mumbled, turned, started to sashay back into his house, and did it saying, “You promised me a beer?”
He watched her move, which did nothing to help him contain his raging hard-on.
But when she was out of sight in his living room, he sucked in another breath, got some damned control, turned, locked the door, shrugged off his cut and hung it on a hook by the door, and then followed her.
Dutch went to the kitchen that was open plan.
By the time he pulled two brews from the fridge, she’d followed him and was standing opposite the bar, living room side, hat gone, jacket thrown over the arm of his couch.
He knew she was wearing black jeans, now he saw she had on a tight black turtleneck.
And even covered from chin down, she looked great in it, and her tits looked fucking amazing.
“How many books do you have?” she asked.
He looked beyond her into the living room that was decorated in nothing but books.
He, Jag, Hound, Snap and Boz had built them after he bought the place.
Now, every single wall, except, obviously, where the kitchen was, was floor-to-ceiling bookcases that were, for the most part, filled with books.
There were some framed pictures his mom had given him. One of him, Jag, his mom and Hound on Hound and Ma’s wedding day. One of him and Jagger with their arms slung around each other, both of them wearing their cuts, the night Jag was patched in. Another one of him in his mother’s hospital room holding his newborn brother the day Wilder came into the world.
And one of his dad, the dad that was no longer breathing, leaning forearm to the bar in the Chaos Compound, smiling big at a camera that was in front of the face of the woman of his dreams, the mother of his children, his wife, Dutch’s mom, Keely Black Ironside.
The shelves were also punctuated by things like lamps and a candle one of his ex-girlfriends gave him and he liked the scent of it, so after they were over, he’d bought another one.
But mostly, yeah, it was books or space where more books would go when he bought them.
Though, there were three shelves that were all albums because he liked the sound of music from vinyl, which was, as far as he knew, the only millennial thing he could get on board with.
He grabbed his bottle opener, popped the caps on both of the Fat Tires, came to stand across from Georgiana, slid hers to her and waited until she took a sip, something he did not do, before he spoke.
“First, before we get into inane things like my book collection, I was a dick. It was out of line. You did not deserve it. And I’m sorry that shit came out of my mouth.”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“I was a dick two days ago when I dropped you off too. You didn’t deserve it then either.”
“Okay, Dutch. Though, I’m not sure that’s correct.”
“It’s correct,” he said firmly.
She pressed her lips together then let them go and whispered, “Right. Okay.”
“Second, that kiss was hot. So I’m takin’ you out to dinner tomorrow night, somewhere nice, good food, maybe even fancy, then plan to spend the night here.”
Her brows went way up, she sucked her lips in so far between her teeth they disappeared, it was cute as all fuck, something he felt in his dick, throat, and the fact his mouth got dry with the need to take hers again, before she rearranged her face and asked, “Is that a biker’s way of asking a girl on a date?”