Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 538(@250wpm)___ 448(@300wpm)
I met gray eyes. Familiar gray eyes.
The man from the gas station, the man who had invited me here stood in front of us, casually holding a beer, eyes on me. Or more appropriately the hand on me.
“Swiss, I believe you need to get your hands off my date,” he said, eyes finding mine but quite obviously addressing the man whose shoulder I was tucked into.
Swiss.
Obviously a nickname. An odd one for a biker. I’d imagined they were all called Striker or Snake or something menacing and badass. Not that Swiss wasn’t badass. It was, just because it belonged to the dark, dark and impossibly handsome man beside me.
“Can’t do that, brother,” Swiss replied easily, holding me a little tighter. “Your own stupid fuckin’ fault for lettin’ her walk into this club alone. She’s mine now.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“She’s mine now.”
I should’ve found a lot of things wrong with their interaction. Two men talking about me as if I wasn’t even here. As if I were an object.
But somehow, it didn’t feel derogatory. I didn’t feel objectified. I felt… incredibly turned on. The masculine energy underpinning both of their casual tones seemed to make the air vibrate.
Both of them wanted me. They were making that very fucking clear.
Out of all of the women in this club, the much younger, much more scantily clad women, the two sexiest men in the room—which was really saying something—were essentially fighting over me.
Me.
“She’s mine now.”
The sentence vibrated in my head.
Gray eyes focused on me. “Now, we’re a little more progressive than all that,” he drawled. “We don’t declare ownership over women without them havin’ a say in it.”
“Speak for yourself, motherfucker,” Swiss said, voice throatier than before. “And she had plenty of say in the matter.” His head tilted downward, and my gaze drifted toward him like a magnet.
My entire body jolted when our eyes met.
“No, I don’t keep women prisoner… unless they beg me,” he murmured.
My mouth went dry, and my knees shook.
“Now I can either fight Cody for you… which I fuckin’ will,” he continued. “Or we can get the fuck out of here, and we can go and do the thing you just asked me to do. And I’ll spend the entire night doin’ it.”
My heartbeat was a roar in my ears.
I was quite sure I’d lapsed into a dream or beer infused hallucination.
Both men were looking at me expectantly.
It was a weight, a physical weight, those stares. My knees struggled to hold me under them.
It was overwhelming, terrifying… exciting.
Not one month ago, I’d been sitting in some McMansion, eating Keto snacks while planning the towns’ anniversary festival, debating over whether we wanted to serve vegan food alongside the BBQ and worrying about the color of the tablecloths ‘sending the wrong message.’ All the while, I was stressing about whether the drycleaners would have Preston’s shirts ready on time because if they didn’t, I’d have hell to pay.
Now I was in a biker compound with two men making it clear they wanted to have sex with me.
You could not make this shit up.
At that juncture, it would’ve been sensible to turn on my heel and walk out the door. I was a mother, for chrissakes. Beyond that, my life was enough of a mess as it was without getting myself tangled up—quite literally—with one of these outlaw bikers.
Instead of walking out, I looked up into the eyes of the man who was still holding me tight to his sculpted side.
“The second one,” I whispered, barely audible above the thumping music.
The grin that stretched across his handsome face was something I felt carnally.
His eyes flickered to the original man, the one he had just addressed, but for the life of me, I could not remember the name of. “Tough cookies, brother,” he winked. “Would advise you to never let one like this go, if you’re lucky enough to find her.”
Then, just like that, he turned us around and walked us out of the room.
Obviously, my feet must’ve contributed to our exit because he didn’t drag me, but I would’ve sworn that they didn’t even touch the floor.
Chapter Four
Kate
I had no idea what I was thinking as I stepped into the room at the end of the long hall that led off the main living room. This clubhouse was much larger than it appeared at first and had somewhat of a dorm room setup. Each of the doors off the hall looked to be rooms for the various members of the club.
This room smelled pleasantly of a spicy aftershave. The same smell of the man behind me.
There was a large bed, made—which was interesting. I’d expected it to be messy, chaotic.
The covers were dark gray, pillows propped up neatly. I frowned at the two hooks on either side of the bed, wondering what they could be for.