Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Figured you might wanna get fed and fucked.”
While that sounded tempting, taking him up on that offer would have her skidding down a slippery slope. The one she was trying to avoid. “Is that some sort of spa package?”
“Yeah. You qualify for the president’s special. Limited time only.”
“Maybe I don’t want it.”
His sudden smile wasn’t a “happy” smile, but one more predatory. When he added a deep, grumbly, “Want me to prove you’re a damn liar?” it made her toes curl and heat pool between her legs.
Damn it.
She cleared her throat so her voice wouldn’t crack when she responded, “No need.”
“Thought that’d be the case.”
“So damn cocky,” she mumbled under her breath.
His head tipped to the side. “You want my cock? That what you just said?”
“I said you’re damn cocky.” This time she said it loud and clear so there was no “misunderstanding.”
His smile grew and he shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head. Why did this man look so damn fine?
It was frustrating. If he was some ugly troll, she could easily resist him.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t.
What made it worse was he was damn good in bed.
Unfortunately, he knew it, too.
However, it was the rest of the baggage that went along with him she wasn’t so fond of…
That cut he wore proudly. The attitude most bikers had about women being property. Or the mistaken belief that anyone with a vagina was weak, helpless, and needed their protection.
“Does that president’s special include a foot massage?”
“No.”
“Oh. Too bad. That’s what I really need right now instead of an internal massage.”
He snorted. “That internal massage gonna make you forget your feet.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” she murmured. She’d been on them for too many hours today. “Do I get a refund if it doesn’t?”
“Got a no refund policy. But if you ain’t happy with the service, can make it right.”
“How?”
“By doin’ it again. No charge.”
“Oooh. So generous. And if I don’t like it the second time?”
“Then gonna do it ’til it’s done right, and you’re satisfied.”
“How about this… I’ll pass on the president’s special and take a food and foot massage package, instead.”
“Gotta get the whole package.” He grabbed his crotch and shook it. “Ain’t a la carte.”
With a soft snort, she dropped her head to hide her amusement because his ego really didn’t need to know he was funny, too.
He snagged her chin again and lifted her face. “Don’t fuckin’ hide from me.”
“Do you always expect women to listen to your orders?”
“Yep.”
“At least you’re honest about it. So… Where are you taking me to eat? A five Michelin star steakhouse?”
“Close. Dick’s. Got a whole damn kitchen full of shit there and cooks we pay to make that shit, too.”
“I don’t like the taste of shit, but I do have a hankering for a really good chicken sandwich loaded with pickles and a side of seasoned waffle fries. Can they make that?”
“Yeah.”
She shot him a skeptical look. “Are you lying?”
“No fuckin’ need to lie.”
“If we get there and I get frozen chicken fingers and unseasoned tater tots, I’m writing a one-star review,” she warned.
His lips quirked. “Dick’s ain’t ever gonna recover if you do.”
Maddie doubted that any bad rating the biker bar received would do any damage. Bikers went there to drink, not for the ambiance or gourmet meals. If their guts started growling, she was sure peanuts, hot wings and a cold beer solved that issue.
She eyed up his sweet Harley. “Do I get to ride on your sled?”
If she hadn’t been watching him carefully, she would’ve missed his nostrils flaring just slightly and his body tense.
Oooh. Did he never haul a woman around on the back of his bike? Did he think doing so might mean some kind of commitment? Interesting.
His seat was big enough for a passenger. Not all bikes had that. She was surprised Romeo’s did since he was determined to remain a bachelor.
“Not a good idea to keep your cage here.”
Her eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise. “It’s not? It’s not a bad area.”
“Dontcha wanna be able to smash and dash?”
Huh. Reverse psychology. He was really using his head. The bald one between his shoulders. “That’s your specialty.”
“Coulda fooled me.” When she opened her mouth again, his twisted. “Done jawin’. You comin’ or not?”
“I would hope so. You haven’t failed me yet.”
He didn’t roll his eyes, but she was sure it was damn close. “Woman…”
She grinned and whacked him in the gut with the back of her hand. “Okay, my stomach’s growling.”
A cell phone appeared in his hand, and he tapped away at the screen.
“Are you looking for another date already?
He shook his head and continued to type. “Makin’ sure they got chicken for your sandwich and waffle fries.”
“Seasoned waffle fries.”
He finally glanced up. “Seasoned waffle fries.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then their asses better find some before we get there.”