Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“Jesus,” I said. “Thank you for stopping by, but I am not interested in any dates. I am surely taken, even if I am contemplating that decision right now.”
Chace chose to leave on that note, and I turned my glare on Ridley.
He was busy locking up the room.
“Now would be a good time to explain,” he ordered.
I grabbed the first thing I saw, which happened to be the shirt that Ridley had on earlier, and slipped it on over my head.
“That’s not going to be enough,” he said, tossing me a blanket.
I must’ve looked at him quizzically because he pointed at my chest with one blunt finger.
“The shirt’s white. Your nipples are not. Enough?” he asked.
I chanced a glance down to his crotch, seeing the obvious bulge in his pants, and decided to give him that.
Plus, I didn’t think my vagina could handle any more of that monster right now.
I was already sore as hell.
If his thing came anywhere near my thing, I was sure I would be protesting instead of getting excited.
“You’re not covering it,” he said through clenched teeth. “I fuckin’ know you can’t take me again.”
I rolled my eyes and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders, covering my body from the base of my neck to the tips of my toes.
Then I walked to the lone recliner in the room and took a seat, facing off with him.
He leaned casually against the wall and stared at me, almost as if he were waiting patiently.
Although I knew he wasn’t.
“I left because I needed to. And you told me to,” I said without preamble.
His eyebrows lowered as he scowled at me.
His beard twitched as he moved his jaw, grinding his teeth in annoyance.
“I most certainly did not tell you to fucking leave. When I had my cock in you, that was a promise that you were mine. If you were mine, why the fuck would I let you leave?” he asked. “Let alone tell you to leave.”
“You told me to ‘do something about it’,” I offered, knowing I was right.
“By ‘do something about it’ I meant you needed to quit and look for a job somewhere else. I didn’t mean for you to leave the fucking state!” he all but bellowed.
The beating on the wall started up again, and Ridley’s eyes narrowed impossibly further, and his patience snapped.
“Mother fucker,” he growled, turning to the door and yanking it open before he disappeared out into the hallway.
I got up and stuck my head out, watching as he went to the door next door and pounded on it.
It opened far enough for the man to peer out, and I watched in stunned silence as Ridley slammed his hand into the door, knocking the door and the man backward.
“Stop fucking pounding on the wall,” he ordered, crouching down in the doorway. “Or I’ll kick your fucking ass.”
Then without another word, he stood and started coming back to me.
I hastily backed up until I was back to my seat, then fell into it.
“You’re nuts,” I told him. “That wasn’t necessary.”
He shrugged. “I’m pissed.”
I laughed.
“I can tell,” I said.
He crossed his arms over his chest, and my eyes went to the other tattoo on his belly that disappeared into his pants.
“Stop looking at my dick,” he ordered. “We have things to discuss.”
I reluctantly moved my eyes back up to his and waited.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.
I pursed my lips, not saying anything.
“The silent treatment?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Nice,” he said.
Then he started to get dressed.
“Get dressed,” he ordered.
I did, albeit reluctantly.
I settled for a simple pair of jeans, a white wife beater, then a sweatshirt on top of that.
“Dress warmer,” he ordered.
I looked down at what I was wearing.
“This is as warm as it gets,” I said. “What are we doing?”
He moved until he was standing in my closet.
Reaching up he pulled my Carhartt jacket down from the top of the closet where I’d shoved it the first day I’d arrived.
I’d actually forgotten about it.
“You got any long socks?” he asked.
I looked down at my ankle socks, then up at him.
“Yes,” I settled on.
“Put them on on top of the ones you’re wearing,” he said. “And don’t put on those shoes with the holes. Wear boots or tennis shoes.”
I frowned, but followed his directions.
It was obvious we were going for a ride, and he knew better than I would what I needed to wear.
Turns out I needed more.
By the time we arrived at the tattoo parlor where I’d gotten pierced the week before, I was freezing my ass off.
It wasn’t that cold out, only forty degrees, but with the wind on the motorcycle, I was shivering by the time we’d arrived, and it’d only been ten minutes at the most.
“I’ll stop by the store and get you more clothes,” he said when he saw the state I was in.