Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
He grinned and slipped back into biker mode. “Lemme see it, woman. Need to know everythin’ about each other. At least as Ghost and Kitten. Even if it’s somewhere no one’s gonna ever see it. ‘Cause if someone sticks their nose where it don’t belong, I gotta have an answer. As your ol’ man, gotta know each and every one of your tattoos intimately.”
Her first instinct was to roll her eyes, but he was right. “Like yours, it’s on my back.”
Without asking, he gently lifted up her hair out of the way. “Don’t see it.” He tucked a finger into the top of her navy-blue razorback tank and tugged it down. “Wait. I see ink, just can’t see what it is.”
She pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “Pull it up from the bottom.” She pinned an arm under her breasts so she wouldn’t accidentally be exposed at the breakfast table. They needed to get to know each other, but not that well.
He yanked the chair farther away from the table so he could stand directly behind her, grabbed the bottom of her ribbed tank and lifted it.
The air touched her skin first, causing goosebumps, but it was his touch that caused her nipples to pebble.
Her breath caught as he slowly trailed a finger down her spine while reading the words out loud: No Fear. No Limits. No Regrets. She had picked a font that was both feminine but also exuded strength. The ink might be simple but she loved the statement it made.
She’d been told by a couple of lovers that her tattoo sounded like a sneaker commercial, but she didn’t give a fuck what they thought. She only cared about what it meant to her. Her body, her message, her reminder.
Opinions were like assholes. Everyone had one. Some stunk, some didn’t.
When his warm breath swept over the back of her neck, she tensed to fight the shudder. She failed.
Fuck. He did not need to know how her body reacted to him with his touch or his voice. He might use that to his advantage.
No, he seemed the type who would use that to his advantage. She had a hunch he considered himself irresistible. He might be the kind to pull out all the stops if he came across a woman who thought otherwise.
Just to prove her wrong and himself right, of course.
Admittedly, he was hot as fuck. He was also a man who’d understand her job. But she never mixed work with personal pleasure.
Luckily with this undercover operation, she was not in a position where she would have to be intimate with anyone to avoid “getting made.” With some assignments, she had to do things not of her choice or not on the up and up to avoid having her cover blown. She made sure to document those instances in her daily report.
For the most part.
There were a few times she had to do things beyond the scope of her assignment. Some she reported, some she couldn’t.
She quickly stepped forward and yanked her tank top down, to not only break both his tangible hold on her, but the invisible one, too. “Are we stuck here all day?” For fuck’s sake, that came out way too breathless.
With heat crawling up her chest into her throat, she remained facing the table so he wouldn’t see it.
His arm brushed against hers as he reached past her to grab the ketchup bottle from the table. “Wanna take the sled out later?”
“Sled?”
“Didn’t you read through some of the terms they use? I included a list in your packet. That’s what they call their Harleys.”
She had skimmed it but she’d been too tired last night to retain most of the information because there had been a shit-ton of it.
Even so…
Hell yes, she needed to get out of the apartment. The walls were closing in on her and this was only day one. “Good to know. And, yes, I would love to go for a ride, Ghost.”
“Well, Kitten, how ‘bout you get ready while I clean up?”
She would be stupid to turn down that offer.
Anyway, she could now use a cold shower. A long one.
Chapter Eleven
He had told her to hang onto him while on the club run. That lasted for about thirty seconds.
Unfortunately, the “sled” the feds supplied for this job had a sissy bar on the back and she had no need to hold onto anything, including him. She’d avoided it yesterday, too, while on their solo run. Maybe he should have that crutch removed so she’d be forced to wrap her arms around him like the rest of the ol’ ladies riding along on today’s run.
She needed to act like she liked him instead of only being along for the ride.
Yesterday, they had spent over two hours cruising around Shadow Valley and its outskirts so they’d be seen while wearing their cuts.