Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Put me down, you oaf!” I screamed, pounding his back with my fists. But regrettably, I had rather small, dainty hands, and he had a back of corded muscle that might as well have been concrete.
Colby plonked me onto the bike, my legs spreading for it on reflex, something he grinned in satisfaction at.
“Now you can sit there of your own volition, or I can tie you to the fucking bike,” he told me, sounding much too serious for my liking.
“You would not tie me to the bike,” I scoffed, calling his bluff.
Colby reached into his saddlebag, unearthing rope that looked like it would indeed serve that purpose.
Outrage flared through me. “No fucking way,” I hissed, not moving. “You tie me to the bike and we crash, I could fucking die.”
Colby’s eye twitched. “You’re on the back of my bike, I’m not fucking crashing.”
Now, it should’ve sounded ridiculous to have him declaring control over whether or not we crashed since there were a whole lot of other variables involved other than him, but it didn’t. He truly sounded like he would not let harm come to me.
And worse, I believed him.
“Fine,” I groaned. “But this doesn’t mean anything you bikers think it means. I’m getting a ride on the back of your bike. I’m not ‘on the back of your bike,’ ” I said, using air quotes at the ridiculous biker speak for going steady.
Colby just grinned lazily, taking me in as I sat on his bike. “Whatever you say, poppet.”
And so help me God, my pussy pulsed a little.
“This isn’t my place,” I remarked, getting off the bike as soon as I could.
I tried not to make my voice sound breathy and turned on. But I really was. Though it was pretty much impossible to be completely outside of Colby’s orbit when I was in Garnett, I had been doing my best not to get too close to him.
My tits pressed against his back, my arms wrapped around his waist, dangerously close to his belt buckle, was too fucking close.
Colby languidly got off the bike, not hiding his reaction to the ride.
My gaze panned down to his jeans.
Not hiding it at all.
I gulped.
“We’re not going to your place,” Colby said, his voice husky. “You’re gonna march your beautiful ass in there, and we’re gonna have a talk that’s been a long time comin’.”
Fuck.
He had the ‘I mean business’ tone. And he also had a ‘we’re gonna fuck’ tone.
My pussy pulsed again.
I glanced to the gates that had closed behind us, gauging whether it would be in my best interest to try to scale them and run away from him.
“You can try, and I’d enjoy watching you do it, but I’d drag you back,” Colby stated as if reading my mind.
I scowled, my head whipping back around to him. I was about to launch into a diatribe about how this was the twenty-first century, and men couldn’t go about dragging women places against their will, but that wasn’t exactly correct. Men in this century were still doing a bunch of shit to women against their will.
And Colby wouldn’t precisely be doing it against my will. That was the problem.
“Fuck you,” I spat instead, stomping toward the clubhouse.
My heart thundered as he fell into step beside me.
Men didn’t make me nervous. Well, I’d taught myself not to let men make me nervous. When I’d first left home and found myself in a world utterly foreign from the one I grew up in, I was nervous during my first few encounters with men. Until I discovered the power I had over them.
Even after that fucking asshole date raped me, I wasn’t nervous or scared of men. Not exactly. I was more mindful, to be sure. Less reckless about who I drank around, though Violet wouldn’t agree on that score since I’d launched into party mode after I’d recovered.
I might have some other shortcomings, but I was pretty good at training myself not to let men intimidate me.
Except Colby.
He scared the shit out of me.
The prospect of this ‘talk’ scared me and excited me in equal measures, no matter how much I’d been fighting it.
I should’ve been relieved to walk into the clubhouse and hear music, a collection of men I’d come to know scattered around the bar drinking, obviously gearing up for a big night.
But I was not relieved.
I was disappointed.
“Fuck,” Colby muttered from behind me when I stopped just inside the door.
His breath on my neck sent tingles down my spine and straight to my panties.
I didn’t hesitate.
“Hey, boys!” I called out, pasting on a flirty grin. “Who’s getting me a drink?” I asked as I sauntered toward the bar.
I was definitely drunk.
Not that I wouldn’t be dancing on a table when I was sober … I’d totally do that. But being drunk made it a lot more fun.