Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
And one of those was dealing with stubborn bikers. Like their fathers, brothers, uncles, and grandfathers.
As well as the man standing before her.
“Can we…” She pulled in a breath to fortify herself. “Can we kiss again to make sure it wasn’t a fluke?”
Did she sound desperate? She had always had a crush on Ash, even as kids. It was the way he carried himself and how he handled life. Despite his occasional explosions, he never took his temper out on any of the women. Even when they did stupid stuff. No matter how annoyed he could get, he still remained overly protective of them.
And that was also why he was the perfect manager for Heaven’s Angels. He might lose his patience with them sometimes, but he also knew how to handle the women without getting beaned in the head with a perfume bottle. On purpose, anyway.
“A fuckin’ fluke? That wasn’t a fuckin’ fluke. My hard-on wasn’t a fuckin’ fluke, Lyric. Goddamn!” He spun to face the sink, bracing his hands on the edge of the counter and dropping his head.
He took a few deep breaths, then went eerily still.
Had she pushed him too far? Was his anger about to erupt?
All she asked for was a kiss. “Ash, I didn’t mean to—”
He rounded on her so quickly, she automatically took a step back. “The fuck you didn’t,” he growled.
With a hold on her hip, he pulled her into him at the same time he grabbed her braid and yanked her head back. Her lips parted in a gasp only a fraction of a second before his mouth slammed down on hers.
Holy shit.
Bracing her hands on his bare pecs, his skin was hot under her fingers. She wanted to explore every inch of him. Not as a tattoo artist, but as a woman interested in being more than friends. And definitely not “family.”
He tasted of coffee with a hint of whiskey, but that godawful perfume seared her nostrils. It might be fine for a woman swinging around a pole a distance away from another human, but up close and personal, it was atrocious.
He took complete control of her mouth while maintaining a tight hold of her hair, then released her hip only to collar her throat instead.
His thumb pressed deeper into her neck at the point where her pulse pounded wildly.
His erection had returned, but it was definitely not morning wood this time. Solid proof he wanted her, too.
A groan slipped from between her lips when his grip tightened on her hair to the point that her scalp began to burn.
Without warning, he ripped his mouth free from hers. His voice was the deepest she’d ever heard when he growled, “This what you fuckin’ wanted?”
Oh yes. And he had no idea just how much.
Chapter Ten
A fucking fluke.
What bullshit.
Rage had wanted to avoid kissing her again, right up until she called his reaction to her a fucking fluke.
He stepped right into that bullshit. The truth was, how he felt about her was real. If he was ready to settle the fuck down, that was one thing. He wasn’t.
Not then.
Maybe not ever.
He liked his freedom: being able to do what he wanted whenever he fucking wanted. It would be difficult to do that being tied down with an ol’ lady.
He’d consider doing Lyric if she wasn’t a club sister, but she was. And he really didn’t need to deal with Crow and Jazz’s disapproval or disappointment. If what they did got out, her parents wouldn’t be the only ones giving him shit, so would his own.
The other issue would be if shit went sideways between them. It might create some fucking static among him and the OGs, as well as the rest of the sisterhood.
They were already enough of a pain in his ass.
She assured him that she wouldn’t tell anyone. Not even Avery, her closest club sister.
Except it wasn’t worth the risk. His connection with Lyric was too damn valuable to destroy it by being a horny fuck. She might never forgive him if he hurt her, even if he didn’t mean to.
Like he told her, she wasn’t simply a hole to fill. Plenty of other women existed to get his rocks off, like sweet butts, hang-arounds, and randoms. He didn’t want to disrespect her by fucking her, then moving on if she expected more. She deserved a hell of a lot better than that.
Even so, it was no fucking lie that she tempted him. She always had. The connection between them was a lot more than the grounding effect she had on him.
But, for fuck’s sake, he wasn’t feeling very grounded standing in his kitchen with her only inches away from him, encouraging him to kiss her.
Don’t fuckin’ take the bait, asshole. You’ll kick your own fuckin’ ass if you screw up what you got with her.