Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
He was useful, competent, and feared but didn’t quite fit in with the other guys, and at this point he’d stopped trying to force something that wasn’t there. Invisible walls surrounded him from all sides, and while he could communicate through them, nobody was ever determined enough to open the single, dusty door keeping him shut out.
Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. They might be even more afraid once they found out what hid inside Hammer’s head.
Ryker would know Hammer meant business once he saw the sledgehammer, so without wasting any more time, Hammer rode off, straight through a pile of fallen leaves.
The prez’s brother lived in a quiet area half an hour’s drive away from the clubhouse. His home, a bungalow with small rocks where all his neighbors had a lawn, was unassuming. Boring. Everyone’s old lady thought it was the absolute shit.
Charming. Cozy. Inviting.
Though what the women really wanted to say was that they’d loved to be banged on the marble kitchen island by the MC’s hottest stud. Maybe that was why Ryker hadn’t arrived at the clubhouse on time? He found it easy to get into lacy panties at any time, so why not today? But whether Ryker had a woman in there or not, Hammer would gladly smash his fancy coffee machine. The lazy bastard would then have to stop bragging to his hook-ups about making the best morning coffee.
Hammer wasn’t jealous. Because what would he be jealous of? He was handsome, with longish dark hair around his face, and a stature that made grown men wary. He smelled good, washed his clothes, and cleaned his nails. But while some women were attracted to his size and got a thrill from flirting with danger, the reality was, most hangarounds found a man like Ryker much more palatable as their fantasy biker fling.
Could Hammer possibly tell Lion he slipped and broke Ryker’s nose so he would no longer look like a perfect Adonis who played a biker in a movie instead of actually being one?
He could get away with it.
As he approached the house, the sensual music coming from inside made him roll his eyes. Of course. Ryker, ever the charmer, cruised on his reputation and the fact that he was the prez’s brother. Hammer would enjoy taking him down a peg.
Just as Hammer put his hand on the doorknob, his phone beeped, and he got it out of his pocket so fast it almost slipped from his fingers. Stefani had finally bothered to reply!
[I know you're a big shot at your club and all that, but don't call me again. What you did was messed up. You treated me like your personal Fleshlight, and I never even did butt stuff before. I'm not your easy access gloryhole either, so if you want a girl you can slam against the wall and choke without consequences, that ain't me. You might be hot shit, but I am a lady, not one of those club tramps. Don't call me again. This pussy is closed.]
Hammer’s face burned as he squeezed the phone, reading the message over and over. The fuck? She’d been moaning like a porn star and trembling like a washing machine on high-spin speed. Not once had she tried to complain or stop him, so what was this? Was she playing mind games and wanted to provoke him into coming over? Why else would she end her message by mentioning her pussy like some sort of challenge for him?
Should he… go to her now? Was that why she told him not to call her twice? And if her pussy was closed, was her ass open? People were so fucking confusing. Especially those of the female persuasion.
He offered his bike a longing look, but he hadn’t become important to his club by being a flake like Ryker. If he did go to Stefani’s now, it might end up with them doing more butt stuff, until she felt more familiar with it, or something, but this thing with Ryker could be over in ten minutes, freeing him up to knock at Stefani’s pussy without any fallout.
So he exhaled again, shoved the phone back into his pocket, and stepped past the open gate into the back yard. Even here, the main purpose of this house was made obvious by the hot tub equipped with light effects and a special compartment that always held condoms and lube. But Hammer’s goal was the back door, and when he gently pushed down the handle and felt it budge, a wide smile stretched his lips. It was time to rub the golden boy’s face into mud.
The slow tones of a rock ballad invaded Hammer’s ears as he entered the kitchen. There was only one plate in the sink, but the girl Ryker had pinned in the sheets might have arrived recently, so Hammer pulled out his gun and crept into the corridor, heading for the bedroom, where the music originated.