Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
This was the perfect excuse to bring her Jeep back with her.
“Don’t like you drivin’ that piece of shit.”
“It’s fine.”
“When I can, will get you somethin’ better.”
“I won’t need anything better if you insist on hauling my ass around all the time.”
“You belong on the back of my sled, and I like haulin’ your ass around.”
“I don’t.” She lifted her palm when he began to argue. “I like being your backpack. I don’t like relying on you to get me around. There’s a difference. I’m not helpless.”
“No one said you’re helpless, baby.”
“Then don’t treat me like I am.”
He told her time after time he wanted her in his bed every night and by picking her up at the bar and bringing her back to the farm, he got his way. If he didn’t do that, he was afraid she wouldn’t come out to the farm on her own. He didn’t voice that, but she heard it by his actions.
He was right to worry.
She loved being in his bed, and she was beginning to love being with him, but there were times she needed to be alone. Sometimes the only alone time she got was in the middle of the day when the bar was empty.
Using the tip of his finger, he circled one of her nipples then the other, waking them up. “Still wanna fuck you, though,” he whispered.
“Do we have time?” she asked, knowing they didn’t.
He twisted his head to look at the ancient clock radio on his side of the bed. “Fuck.”
“The sooner you drop me off, the sooner I can get back here.”
“I can wait for you.”
She froze mid-roll as she was getting out of bed. “I told you the plan, let’s stick to it. When is everyone meeting?”
“Eleven.”
“Here?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s nine-thirty now. It’ll give me enough time to shower, pack a bag and then head back over here so we can eat before the run.” She added the next to sweeten the deal. “And I’ll be able to pack a bigger bag if I have my Jeep. Clothes to change into after the run. More stuff to stash in the bathroom.”
She finished getting out of bed, slipped on the clothes she had discarded in the middle of the night and faced him. He was now out of bed, completely naked and staring at her with his hands on his bare hips. And his jaw was working.
She waited for him to argue, but he didn’t. He bent over, swiped his jeans off the floor and tugged them on.
He was not liking her plan. In fact, he was struggling with it.
She was not his property to control and this was a good reminder for him.
It was one thing to sleep with him, or spend time together, it was another for him to try to rule her life.
She wasn’t going to have it. And if he insisted on it, this wasn’t going to work.
“Trip,” she said as she sat on the edge of the bed and yanked on her boots. When she was done, she glanced over her shoulder. He was still just standing there only wearing jeans. “You’ve got something to say?”
It probably took everything he had for him to say, “No.”
Even though they promised not to lie to each other, he just told her one. Because she was damn sure he had plenty to say.
Her cheeks were wind burned, maybe even a little red by the early June sun, and her ass even hurt, but she didn’t care. It was to be expected after a four-hour long ride when she hadn’t been on a club run in a couple of decades.
As they rode through the mountains and countryside of northern PA, that wind, that sun, the vibration of the Harley, holding onto Trip, being in a formation of roaring bikes, had lifted the weight of the world off her shoulders.
The only word for it was freeing. Totally fucking freeing.
Just like she remembered when she had ridden with her father.
She didn’t catch one of the club brothers not wearing a smile or a grin. Not Dutch, who whooped and hollered for the first hour of the run. Cage. Ozzy. Judge. Deacon. Even Whip, who everyone was calling Sparky now that he wore a cut with a “prospect” rocker on the back. Mouse, aka Mickey, was another one of Dutch’s mechanics sporting a prospect cut. And Dodge, a new prospect, who Deacon had picked up at prison just a couple days ago, wore the biggest smile of all.
She didn’t blame him.
She also hoped Rook’s release from County wasn’t delayed and he got to join them on the next one. She knew of one old man who was riding at the front of the pack who would be damn happy about having his son home.
Now Rook just needed to stay out of trouble and so did Dodge. Hell, all of them did. Trip was right when he told her late one night that having members behind bars weakened the whole club.