Total pages in book: 212
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1040(@200wpm)___ 832(@250wpm)___ 693(@300wpm)
I told him to stand down and he refused to listen. Since I’m patched and Bront isn’t, he’s now on probation for refusing orders. Though if I knew that’d happen I would not have told him to stand down and wouldn’t have admitted to anyone that he ignored my orders.
Deacon showed up halfway through said ass-whooping and stood with me watching for a minute before asking me what was up. Then getting from me that Bront wasn’t listening to my order to stand down, Deacon got my help and pulled them apart. The brother wasn’t just good with his gun, he was evidently also good with his fists.
But no, Gianna Jones probably wouldn’t pick Pudge or Bronto as a first choice or even a fourth, though then again, the Sioux Falls clubhouse often had good-looking women crawling all over older or uglier bikers. Some chicks got wet at the mere sight of a motorcycle club patch on leather. Some of them wanted a rough guy to take care of their pussy and show them attention for a while. I didn’t know yet what Gianna Jones’s story was, and I might never know. I did know one thing – that towel barely covered her and I wasn’t the only one who noticed the water droplets on her skin and suspected all three of us were feeling like thirsty men after a days’ long trek across the desert dunes.
This joint wasn’t as rowdy as I knew the Sioux Falls clubhouse to be when I started out prospecting. There were a lot more people there, plenty of guests coming and going and though it’d only been a couple weeks easing into prospecting there before we made the move here, it was enough for me to see that some of those club sweet butts had daddy issues. Some of them had no place to go. Other ones were more selective and went after specific guys. Though there are older, rougher bikers there, there are also plenty of guys my age who take care of their bodies and gave a shit what they look like. What we all had in common was favoring the lifestyle the brotherhood subscribes to.
I slipped into my room with a plate of scrambled eggs and a dish of grapes along with a banana.
As the door snicked shut, she had her back to me, still in her towel.
Just her head turned. She smiled.
I did not return it.
“This was the best I could do. We’ll get in some supplies tomorrow. Make a list for me of what you want, and it’ll get picked up.”
“Thanks,” she said, pulling a pink tank top over her head and then shimmying the towel down to her waist. “I’m starved.”
I put the bowl and plate on the dresser with the banana and a bottle of water and kicked my boots off. I then reached over and lifted the cuffs.
“So, eat up quick. I’m tired,” I said.
It was obvious she wasn’t taking her clothes to the bathroom to put them on, so I did my best to ignore her.
I failed.
While shimmying something up under her towel, she eyeballed the cuffs with unconcealed horror.
“Told ya,” I muttered, twirling them without making eye contact. “I wasn’t bullshitting. You didn’t get up, so here we are.”
“I’m not gonna do anything. Not gonna go anywhere. This is the safest place for me. That’s probably why I slept so long. Haven’t felt this safe in a while.”
She then pulled the towel away and started rubbing her hair with it revealing booty shorts that were barely more than underwear.
I did not reply. This chick needed to get me and part of that was getting that I didn’t typically repeat myself. Was she doing her stealthy dressing routine putting on next to nothing trying to make my cock twitch, figuring the tease along with the chosen outfit would get her what she wanted?
“A long while,” she added, teeth sinking into her bottom lip, eyes on me with a plea in them.
Immune to it, I adjusted a pillow and leaned back, lifting another beaten-up paperback from the bedside table, reading the first half a page before deciding I wasn’t feeling it, so putting it down and grabbing the next one in the stack. Bag of Bones. It’d been a few years since I read it.
“No TV in here,” she muttered a minute later from the end of the bed where she was surveying the food. “Too bad.”
“Don’t watch much TV,” I said, flipping a page.
“Might be nice to drown out the noise of me eating.”
I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept mine on the page.
“People make noise when they eat.” I shrugged. “That’s how it works.”
“I guess,” she muttered and reached for the fork.
And she was eating so quietly, so daintily to avoid me hearing her chew or swallow, that I knew it’d take her all fucking night to eat if I sat where I was, so to resist the urge to bark out orders to just eat her fucking food so I could go to sleep already, I dropped my book and stepped out.