Rust or Ride – Lost Kings MC Read Online Autumn Jones Lake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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Is that romantic? Or too eager?

The thundering of his bike increases, then cuts off. My heart thumps. He’s here.

I run down the stairs, skidding to a stop in the entryway. Dammit. I never put on makeup. I turn and stare in the small, round mirror over the entry table. Pale as a frickin’ ghost. I grab my purse and dig through it for a lip gloss or something. Aha. I pluck a deep-berry lip stain from the depths of my bag and quickly pat it on, leaning in close to the mirror to make sure it’s perfect.

For fuck’s sake, Emily, calm down.

I shouldn’t be this eager, but I throw open the door before Dex has a chance to knock. No sign of him. I step outside and there he is. Dear Lord, it should be illegal for a man to look that good just walking. Swaggering like he owns my whole damn yard.

He’s so serious. Almost scowling. But then his gaze lands on me and his expression shifts. His lips curve, the smile reaching his eyes where they crinkle at the corners.

“Emily.”

That’s it. My name in his low, rumbly voice sends tingles racing over my skin.

“Hi,” I answer.

Then, he’s standing in front of me. He rests his hand on my hip, holding me in place. “What’re you doing out here?”

“I…heard your bike and I…” Words won’t come when he’s standing so close. Staring like he wants to devour me.

“I’ve missed you,” he says. Blunt, sincere, and to the point.

“I missed you too,” I admit.

His hand moves lower, tapping my behind. “Let’s go inside.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“How’s Libby’s trip going?” he asks.

Is that his way of asking if we’re alone or is he genuinely concerned about my sister?

“So far, so good. She sent a few selfies throughout the day.” I pull out my phone and find one of the photos, turning the screen his way.

He takes my phone and thumbs through the pictures, genuine interest in his expression. “Looks like she’s having fun.”

“I hope so.” I slip my phone back into my pocket.

He slides his leather vest off his shoulders, then unzips the sweatshirt underneath. I hold out my hand for both, then hang them in the closet.

Amusement chases the remaining storminess from his eyes.

“What?” I ask, closing the closet door.

“Nothing.” He taps a hook on the rack outside of the closet. “Normally, I drop it here. This feels like you want me to stick around.”

He’s teasing but I don’t laugh. “I always want you to stay. It’s just—”

“I get it.”

My gaze drops to his tight, black T-shirt. It’s plain but highlights his hard muscles and inked arms to mouth-watering perfection.

“You wear that T-shirt really well.” I mean it as a sexy compliment but the words leave my mouth in an awkward jumble.

“Yeah?” Dex lifts an eyebrow.

I clutch his bicep. Damn, does the man spend his days chopping wood or something?

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Ravenous.”

Again, I don’t think we’re discussing food.

I shake off my nervous energy and head for the kitchen. “Well, follow me.”

In the kitchen, a stray rose petal on the table catches my attention. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I turn and collide with his hard, warm body.

“Oh,” I breathe out.

He gently tugs on the ends of my hair. “They reminded me of you.”

“They’re beautiful. So vibrant,” I babble.

“Mmhm,” he hums in agreement.

I point to the ceiling and realize my hands are shaking. “They’re upstairs. In my bedroom. So I could see them first thing in the morning.”

“Good.” He studies me and presses so close, I have no choice but to back up against the counter.

“Are you…okay?” I stammer, my voice rising with each word. “I really loved the arrangement. I was going to leave them down here…”

Why am I still rambling on about flowers?

“I’m more than okay. I’m with you.” His voice drops to a low rumble that vibrates through my body. “And all I’ve been thinking about this week is how I want to rip off your clothes, kiss every inch of your body, and make you scream my name.”

Yes, yes, yes.

I blink and open my mouth like a goldfish gasping for air until an answer pops out. “I’m not a screamer.”

One corner of his mouth slides up. “You will be.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Dex

Emily couldn’t have chosen a better outfit to drive me out of my mind. The deep, sexy “V” of her blouse edged with black lace allows a glimpse of her skin if she turns just the right way. A flash of bright pink under the black lace also teases the hell out of me.

She’s still speechless. Too bad she doesn’t realize what she’s gotten herself into. Fucking her until she screams my name is only the tip of the iceberg of filthy ideas in my head.

I back up and give her some room, moving to the sink to wash my hands. Riding gloves always leave me feeling grimy and I’m dying to put my hands all over every inch of Emily’s soft, perfect skin.


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