Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“I could walk faster than this,” she yelled over the rumble of the bike.
I was usually someone who prided themselves on their restraint. But I totally fucking took the bait with her.
Then we were peeling out of the lot and onto the road.
A squeal escaped Cali, followed by a bubbly, happy laugh that had my own lips curving up and me pushing it faster, flirting with the speed limit as her arms and legs tightened around me.
I knew the direct route to her place.
But I found myself heading off to the highway instead.
There was no objection from her, so I kept going.
Up through a bunch of closed businesses.
Over the bridge.
Right to the beach, the air immediately getting a little cooler, crisp with the comforting salty scent.
It was then that Cali’s thighs clamped hard around me, so she could throw her arms up in the air, and let out a delighted howling sound.
I never wanted so badly to pull my bike down some side street, pull a woman into my lap, and fuck her right there on my bike as I did right then.
And with those thoughts on my mind and only getting stronger with each passing moment, I turned the bike back in the direction of Cali’s place, knowing I needed to put some space between us before I went and did something I knew Clay never would have wanted.
“Okay. I totally need a bike of my own,” Cali declared as she climbed off behind me, wiggling down her skirt, before reaching up to take off her helmet, still beaming, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Yeah?” I asked, feigning cool even if my cock was aching in my damn jeans.
“Yeah. Moving that up on my list. And not just to knock rollercoasters further down. Totally not a chickenshit move on my part. Well, thanks for the ride,” she said before I could ask her why she was trying to do so much so quickly. “I have almost forgiven you for puffing your chest around your club brothers,” she told me as she fished out her key, then was quick to get to her door.
I sat there and waited until the door closed, then her lights went on upstairs, before I finally forced myself to drive off.
I was somehow sure that this was the last time we would cross paths for the time being.
And there was no accounting for the ache in my chest at that realization.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cali
I’d like to say I forgot about Brooks.
But he was an ever-present star in my dreams, making me wake up twisted in my sweaty sheets, with a throbbing ache between my thighs.
And because I was determined not to play into that old schoolgirl crush of mine, I ignored the need for release. Until, of course, it became the dominant thought on my mind all through my workday, even there when I was doing fun shit that should have been taking all of my attention.
But nope.
There was Brooks.
His strong body behind mine, like he’d been on the ladder, but he was doing something entirely less chaste than trying to save me from my own anxiety.
“Ugh,” I grumbled, dropping my eyeshadow brush down on my sink counter, watching it draw a line of bright silver glitter shadow across the surface.
I needed to shut him out of my mind.
I’d never struggled so hard to stop thinking about a guy before. Not even when stuck in that lovey-dovey phase of a new relationship.
I guess an argument could be made for this being different because I’d been into Brooks for so long. And, yes, there’d been a time after he’d walked out of our lives that I’d been angry and upset. But underneath all of that was, well, want.
There’d only been maybe a year or so of my entire life that he wasn’t right there. In my heart, in my mind.
So when he suddenly came back, but in a very different way than ever before—talking about things like fucking, being protective, putting his hands on me—it just brought it all back up and intensified it.
I glanced at myself, letting out an annoyed exhale as I reached for my mascara wand to finish my damn makeup before I made myself late.
I wasn’t exactly sure why I’d decided on this event. Fights of any sort were never my thing. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that Clay always ordered the big boxing or MMA fights, having friends over to watch, yelling at the TV, having a good time, and some part of me felt like this was an homage to him.
I wasn’t sure if Clay even knew this underground fight club existed. That wasn’t exactly something he would have told me about. A, because he knew I didn’t like fights. And, B, because he wouldn’t want me to be involved in something illegal like that. Even if, apparently, this fight club place had been running for literally like generations now.