Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Shit yeah,” Remy agrees. “Girl can make a decent feed.”
Hank and Hugh nod in agreement.
“When does Adan get out of hospital?” I ask, gathering up their empty plates.
“Tomorrow,” Hugh answers. “He’s not happy about bein’ on light duties either. Gotta have a nurse around daily because he can’t use those hands for at least six weeks.”
“Oh.” I laugh. “I hope you got him a hot one.”
Riggs grins. “Fuck no.”
“You’re awful!”
I walk the plates back into the kitchen, fetch a new round of coffee, and take it back out. I served them all a BLT for lunch with a side of chocolate cupcakes that I made fresh this morning. They were big, too. Juicy and full of chunky chocolate. The sandwiches were slathered with bacon and tomato, only a touch of lettuce for the guys and some fresh house made sauce.
“That was the best fuckin’ feed I’ve had in years,” Riggs says, grabbing me and pulling me onto his lap.
I squeak and look around at my customers. Doris being the main one. She winks at me.
“Riggs, you’re giving Doris ideas. Soon she’ll be here asking me how sex is with you. She said she’s old now, but she lives through her granddaughters. The woman is a deviant. Oh, shit, she’s coming over.”
“I see the two of you fixed your problems,” she says, winking at me.
“Doris, stop it, you’re a grandmother now,” I scold her.
She laughs and wiggles a little old finger at me. “You’re never too old for sex, my dear. At least the fantasies, and let me tell you, this group in here every day is making for some good ones.”
“Doris!” I scoff.
The guys chuckle.
“Pleased to meet you, miss Doris,” Remy says, extending his hand. Doris takes it and like the fucking charmer he is, he leans down and kisses it.
Doris flushes. “I’m not too old to make your eyes roll, young man.”
Oh, god.
She’s hitting on him.
Doris no.
You bad, bad woman.
Riggs looks at me, laughing.
“Don’t encourage her,” I say, getting off his lap. “Come on, Doris, I’ve got a fresh batch of muffins to give you out the back.”
Doris follows me out, and I can’t wipe the smile from my face. She makes me laugh and when I grow up, I want to be just like her.
“You’re a real devil,” I say, handing her a box of muffins.
“If you can’t have fun, dear, you’re wasting your life.” She winks at me.
“Oh, I’m having fun.”
“With that giant hunk, I’m sure you are.”
I laugh. “Come on, you better get back out there before one of them comes and snatches you up.”
She does a little dance as she walks out. “I wouldn’t say no to that.”
God.
I clear up the kitchen for the next round of baking when Riggs walks in and comes up behind me, his lips finding my neck.
“You know,” I say, closing my eyes and tipping my head back, “for someone who hated me a week ago, you’re sure sucking up now.”
He sucks on my flesh, making me tremble. “I never hated you. Drove me fuckin’ crazy, but never hate.”
“And now?” I whimper as his hand slides around to my breast.
“Now I want to fuck you.”
“Is that all?”
“No.”
“Well, you better tell me what else, biker, otherwise I might just keep my vagina to myself.”
He cups me between my legs, not roughly but firmly enough that I cry out. Pleasure shoots through my core, and I bite my lip, trying to stop my cries leaving the kitchen as he hangs on, putting enough pressure on for me to ache.
“This pussy is mine, and so are you. We clear on that?”
“What about the war? That was kind of fun, no?” I ask breathily.
“You want me to move on?”
“No.”
“Then how about we wave the white flag and see where this takes us.”
His finger glides up my pants, right over my clit.
“Oh, I’m waving the flag. I’m fucking waving it so hard.”
He spins me around and kisses me, long and hard. Then he steps back. “After you’re done with that bitch tonight, I’m going to fuck you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.”
Oh.
Yes.
Please.
“I’ll be there.”
With fucking bells on.
18
“SO YOU TWO BROKE UP?” Carmen asks me over a glass of wine at her dinner table.
She’s making something that smells incredible. I think it’s pasta of some sort, but my stomach is grumbling in anticipation. She doesn’t seem her usual quirky self, and I wonder if I’m giving off a vibe that is telling her I’m not the same, either.
Looking at her now does agitate me, I can’t lie. The fact that she befriended me, let me trust her, and all along she has been working against me, doesn’t feel good. I thought we had a genuine friendship, and even now, sitting here with her, knowing it’s all an act, is making it hard to be as easy going as I was with her before.