Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“My bike is over here,” he said, leading me toward several parked bikes to the right of the building.
Why were we going to his bike? I decided I’d stop now. He didn’t get to lead me around like a child. I wasn’t that girl inside, ready to do his bidding, and I wasn’t going to follow wherever he told me to.
“I don’t need to see your bike. I’ve already seen it. With the girl inside, Nixie, sitting on the back of it. Remember? It was just a couple of days ago.”
Yep. That had sounded snarky. I’d opened my mouth to say no thanks, and that had come out instead. No filter for me, it seemed.
He sighed as he studied me for a moment. I held his gaze, not backing down now. I’d said it, so I was going to own it.
“I thought you’d like some fresh air. Get out for a while. Take a ride.”
Getting out for any amount of time sounded wonderful. Sitting on the back of Rome’s bike, pressed against him as I held on, sounded like…a choice I would regret. I didn’t know how to respond, and I feared if I opened my mouth, I would blurt out the incorrect response.
“Salem…”
The sound of my name in his gravelly sent goose bumps over my skin, although there wasn’t even a hint of a chill in the air today.
“You’re here for an indefinite amount of time. I don’t want to pretend like you’re someone I don’t fucking know. I’m not asking you to straddle me and fuck me on it.” His mouth quirked, as if he knew, at those words, the memory of when I’d done just that was flashing in my head.
Damn you, Rome.
“I just want to take you for a ride. We both need to get away.”
I swallowed hard, then licked my lips, uncertain. “I thought it wasn’t safe for me to leave…this place,” I finished, not sure what to call it.
“It is with me, and we are going farther out of the city than we already are. I own some land not far from here.”
He owned land? Did it have a house too? Why did he own land if he lived here? Or did he only live here sometimes?
I knew he went to work at a strip club in Ocala often and for weeks at a time because Pepper had explained he wouldn’t be there when she talked me into coming to the bar.
I realized I did want to know things about Rome. Or Tex. The man he’d become. The one I didn’t know at all. Not like I had once.
“Okay,” I said before I could stop myself.
What would it hurt? We were going for a ride. I’d sat behind Lick and held on to him easily enough, and I hadn’t known the man at all. I had known Rome, but Tex was as much of a stranger as Lick had been.
The slow, pleased smile that stretched across his face should have been a warning. But if it was, I chose to ignore it.
“Let me get you a helmet,” he said, then walked over to a storage area only a few feet away from us.
My gaze did its own thing, not caring that it should be looking elsewhere. Instead, it drifted down the backside of Rome’s body, admiring the way his butt looked in a pair of jeans. God, I’d forgotten how sexy his walk was. Like he owned the place and he knew it. No matter where he was or what he was doing, his stride and body language exuded self-confidence.
When he turned back around, he held a black helmet in his hands, much like the one I’d worn on Lick’s bike. I wasn’t sure if I had snapped my gaze up fast enough, but I hoped so. The last thing I wanted was for him to catch me looking at his ass.
The Rome from my teenage years would have winked and asked me if I was enjoying my view.
I’d have laughed and replied, Very much so.
“This should fit,” he told me. “And the only other person who’s used it was Micah’s ole lady, Dolly. Before he bought her the pink one at least.”
I remembered seeing the pink helmet on her when we’d all ridden from the parking lot next to Pepper’s bar.
“Thanks.”
I reached to take it, and he ignored that, then went to put it on me like I was a child.
“I know how to fasten a bike helmet.”
That didn’t stop him.
He smirked and continued, “Maybe, but I want to make sure the strap is tight enough and it’s a good fit.”
As nice as that was of him, it played with my head’s and body’s reactions to his nearness. When he did things like this, it triggered too many memories that had been locked away. I fought the urge to step back and run inside, away from him. Remembering was territory that made me vulnerable. I didn’t ever want to be that weak again. That easy to destroy. There would be no Eamon to pick me up, dust me off, and stand by me, refusing to give up, no matter how hard I pulled away or closed down on him.