Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Chapter 6
Pres
I can't take my eyes off of Allison. Her eyes are still tired, but as she looks at me with her fresh clean face and her wet hair, I can’t help but think she looks beautiful. I have no doubt that the guys are going to love her. Fuck, Reaper looks like he could be a Hollywood model or something, and most women fall at his feet. Jealousy sparks inside of me, and it's a foreign feeling for me. I normally could care less what a woman does, but I know it would gut me if Allison was to fall under Reaper’s charm.
My voice is gruffer than I expected it to be. "Come on. It gets a little rowdy, but I want you to meet everyone."
She walks beside me down the hall. "Trust me, nothing is as rowdy as a room full of politicians."
A laugh escapes me. I gesture for her to walk in front of me, and as we walk down the hall, I glance at her ass and the way the denim fits against her shapely butt.
The big room of the clubhouse is now full of people. I grab two beers from behind the counter and bring her one. She looks at it almost greedily and takes big swallows until half of it is gone. "Shit. I'm sorry, I probably should have given you some water or something. How long has it been since you've eaten?"
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "I ate at Violet's. I guess I was just thirsty," she says, her face red.
I introduce her to a few of the guys, but one glance from me, and they find their way across the room. I don't know what it is, but I want to keep her close and the guys at a distance. "What do you all do?" she asks as she takes another drink of her beer.
"We own the bar and the bike shop. They're both next door." She nods, but from her face, I can tell she knows that I'm not telling her all of it. Before she can ask another question, Reaper is making his way to us. He was on the bike earlier, but he never did get to meet her.
"Well, well, well," he says, as he approaches us. "What have we got here?"
Allison turns in her chair and smiles up at him. The growl that escapes me is almost instant. I put my fist on the table in front of me. My voice is low but lethal. "She's off limits, Reaper."
He looks at me with a challenge. I can't say that I blame him. Most men don't go against me for anything, but I guess when it comes to Allison, some men don't care about what they should and shouldn't be doing.
"She yours?" he asks me.
I know he's surprised by my possessiveness of her. I'm known for not liking women, but really, it's only one woman that I dislike. "Yeah, she's mine," I tell him without even hesitating. Allison is speechless. Her mouth falls open as she looks between Reaper and me. As soon as I tell Reaper that she's mine, he nods and lifts the beer in his hand. "It was nice to meet you, ma'am," he says to her respectfully before turning away.
Allison is looking at me with wide eyes, and it's then that I realize what I've done. "I'm sorry, but that's the only way they're going to leave you alone."
She looks around the room and then back at me. "Why is everyone staring at us?"
Reaper has walked over to a group of the guys, and all of them are staring our way. I’m sure he’s passing the word that I’ve claimed a woman, which I’m glad about. "Some of them are trying to figure out what's going on. I never talk to women... most of them I don’t have the patience for, and so they all think I hate women."
She takes another drink of her beer. "Do you?"
I shrug my shoulders, refusing to look her in the eye. "I hate what they're capable of."
She nods, and her fingers start to pick at the label of the bottle. "So you've been hurt before."
I flex my arms out in front of me and then cross them over my chest. This is not something that I usually want to talk about. I fix her with a stare. Maybe it's because I want to stop her from asking the question. But she just laughs. "What, one of your girls tell you no?" And then her face gets even livelier as if she’s come up with something really clever. "Oh, I know. She didn’t like being called an ol’ lady. That’s what you call them, right?"
I grit my teeth. "Close." I unfold my arms over my chest and lay them on the table in front of me, leaning toward her. This definitely isn't a story that I want everyone to hear. "While I was serving in Afghanistan, I was married, and we had a two-year-old. While I was serving our country, she served me with divorce papers. After a long court battle, I found out that my son wasn't my son, and no matter how much I want to be in his life, I can't be."