Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I was training too hard to be running on fumes.
I made a peanut butter sandwich, loaded half an inch thick for extra protein.
Then, well, I ovaried the fuck up and moved on.
FOUR
Edison
I was a fuck.
That was the only way to put it.
I didn't do shit like that.
I didn't go overboard.
I didn't ever lose sight of the fact that a student in my class wasn't as trained as I was, couldn't take the same level of abuse that I could after so many years.
I certainly never genuinely hurt a woman.
Pushed one in class? Twisted them in ways that weren't comfortable? Let them slam back against a wall or the floor? Sure, yes. It was necessary to teach them to tolerate a hit.
But I never, fucking never brought tears to a woman's eyes from pushing her too hard.
That was exactly what I was trying to prevent - men who used their strength against women. Then I went ahead and made a woman like Lenny tear up.
I wasn't lying to her either.
She was so fucking tough.
I had gone up against trained men who couldn't take pressure point after pressure point like she did.
Even when she hissed and cursed me to hell, she didn't pull back. She kept charging, kept asking for more, kept trying to sharpen herself. The training session had been so intense - then so abruptly over - that I didn't get a chance to see if I could weasel out what that was for.
A part of me was mildly worried that I wouldn't get the chance again after the tears then the shaking. On top of the tit graze and shivering.
I could tell it was most definitely an off-day for her. She didn't strike me - or anyone who so much as crossed her path - as someone who wore her reactions on her sleeve. Snark, bitterness, and the slightest bit of anger aside. She damn sure didn't seem like the kind of woman who shivered easily either.
I would be lying if I said that her reaction didn't shoot right to my cock. A woman wound as tightly as her, who had the guards that she had, shivering at the barest of touches? Yeah, I couldn't help but wonder how she might respond with my lips at her neck, my tongue on her nipples, my fingers or cock buried deep in her pussy.
It would be a world-class fuck.
I think we both understood that.
But I also understood that if I tried to go there, that she might decide not to train with me anymore, which would deprive her of some skills she might very well need for whatever it was she was preparing for.
But then again, I also thought she was fully capable of showing up just to make a point.
That the sex wasn't personal.
That she wasn't wishy-washy about a casual fuck.
That she wasn't going to let the fact that she enjoyed your cock alter her behavior or patterns in the least.
If for no other reason than so a guy didn't think she was affected by him.
Interesting.
That was what Lenny was.
Women with guards like that, yeah, you know there had to be a story there. Likely one they had no interest in sharing. Which only made men like me even more intrigued to hear it.
"The fuck is up with him?" Reign asked, pulling me out of my thoughts, making me realize he was talking about me. Which meant he had likely spoken to me without a response.
"Came back from his class like this," Roderick supplied, making me shoot him a look. "What? It's the fucking truth, man. Been lost up in your head for hours. Expect that from Roan, not so much you."
"You finally met Lenny, didn't you?" Cyrus asked. The way my head whipped around to him at the sound of her name on his lips was, apparently, all the answer he needed. "Yeaaaah," he said, nodding, reaching up to run a hand down his beard. "She is something else, right? Tougher than half the fucks here," he added, and I had to agree. "Surprised it took you this long to notice her."
"Why's that?"
"Dunno," Cy said, shrugging. "There's just something about her. That's your thing, isn't it? Chicks with something about them that you can't quite put your finger on."
He was referring to his sister, Wasp, who he was convinced I had some plans on fucking behind his back. I didn't. First, because of loyalty. Second, because she needed a certain kind of man to get past her particular guards. I wasn't that kind. We were friendly when she came to visit. But that was all it was and all it would ever be.
"Pickiest biker I've ever met," Sugar agreed, dropping down in a chair across from Cy.
That was fair.
When there were women invited to the compound, or when we all went out on the town, Roderick, Virgin, and Sugar tended to almost always go home with someone, or bring someone up to their room.