Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 15704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 79(@200wpm)___ 63(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
The sound of a motorcycle reached my ears, and I glanced over my shoulder when I realized it was slowing. A man wearing a Storm Hogs MC cut was sitting astride the beast, one hand resting on the handlebar, the other resting on his thigh. His visor covered his face so I couldn’t see who he was, though his build was definitely all man. Thick arms covered in a light dusting of dark hair. Stained blue jeans from hard work. His white t-shirt was also stained with dirt.
He finally rolled to a stop, and I swallowed thickly when he pushed his visor up, letting me see his handsome face. And man, was it handsome. Light stubble coated his jaw and cheek, and his dark eyes ran over me, doing a once-over, one corner of his lips lifting when his eyes finally met mine.
I wasn’t worried about this particular random man finding me on the side of the road with no one else around. The Storm Hogs MC was known for their contributions to different businesses in the county, and all of them I’d come across in grocery stores or restaurants were extremely kind. They were probably the most decent set of men in the state of Georgia, to be honest.
“Woman, do you have any idea how dangerous what you’re doing right now is?” the man asked me. His voice was deep but smooth—like warm honey. It resonated deep within my chest, calling to something within me—awakening it. Something deep inside of me reacted, and my belly did a weird curling thing before an ache settled deep within me.
I waved down the hill toward my car, and he followed my hand before looking back over at me. “My stupid fucking car broke down.” I sighed and rubbed at the spot between my brows, so fucking exhausted. My shoulders slumped. “And of course, no fucking signal,” I griped, waving my phone around.
He swung his leg over his bike before pushing it off the side of the road. My eyes widened in surprise.
What was he doing?
“Come on. Let’s go down to your car and get anything valuable out. I’ll give you a lift home, and in the morning, you can call for a tow truck. Sound good?” He glanced around us. “It’s getting dark and too dangerous to be out here waiting on someone to come grab your car and bring you home.”
I sighed, knowing he was right. Giving in, I nodded. “A ride home would be great. Thank you.”
He winked at me, and my skin flushed. Why was he so damn good-looking?
“No problem,” he assured me. He began pushing his bike down the hill, and I followed him, trying not to drool over the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he controlled the heavy bike. “My name’s Elliot—Elliot Augustine. Sergeant at Arms for the Storm Hogs MC.”
I smiled at him, relaxing even more in his presence. “Harbor,” I introduced myself. “Harbor Latimer. I don’t have a fancy title.” He chuckled. “Just a nurse at Piedmont in the ER department.”
We came to a stop by my car, and he handed me a backpack. “Stick everything in there. It’ll be easier than trying to somehow hold a purse or whatever while we’re riding. You ever ridden before?”
I nodded. “A couple of times. I had a thing for bad boys in college.”
He threw his head back and laughed as I took the bag from him. “Baby, those bad boys in college have got nothing on a real man like me.”
I almost tripped over my own two feet, shocked by his bluntness. He winked at me. “Time’s ticking, Har. Get a move on.”
My heart clenched in my chest as I quickly spun and opened my car door. I really liked the sound of him shortening my name—definitely more than I should have after just knowing him for a few minutes.
2
Elliot
“Your turn for groceries,” Remi said, handing me the club credit card. My shoulders drooped, and I groaned loud enough to make Harlan shoot me a dirty look from where he was sprawled on the couch, trying to catch a “cat nap”.
He had a whole apartment upstairs to take a damn nap in. Wasn’t my problem he was disturbed while trying to sleep down in the main area.
“Stop being overdramatic,” Harlan told me before shutting his eyes again.
“If you’d take naps up in your room in your bed, you wouldn’t hear me being overdramatic,” I told him, doing air quotes when I said overdramatic.
He opened his eyes and rolled them at me. “Go fuck yourself, Elliot.”
I grabbed my dick, thrusting my hips in his direction. He grunted in disgust, but amusement shone in his eyes. “No need to fuck myself, Harlan. Got plenty of women to do it for me. Unless you’re secretly trying to tell me you’re up for the task?” I waggled my brows.