Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“I’m fine,” I admitted. “Do I look different?”
He frowned. “Different how?”
I spread my arms out wide and said, “Like I was just fucked two ways from Sunday by a cock the size of my forearm.”
He shook his head, a small grin playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not that big.”
“You’re big,” I disagreed. “And you have a dick piercing. I’ve only read about those in books.”
He snorted. “What kinds of books are you reading?”
“The smutty kind,” I answered. “The kind where you have to turn them down when you get close to a drive-through so all those impressionable teenage ears don’t hear the characters fucking. The kind where you squirm in your airplane seat and try to figure out if anyone can tell you’re in the middle of the dirtiest, raunchiest three-way there’s ever been. The kind where you have to go take care of business when you’re in the middle of said scene. And maybe even at the end of it.”
His eyes were huge by the time I finished. “I think I might have to read this book…”
I grinned. “I’m not reading one in particular right now. Just in general. Those are the kinds of books that I like to read.”
He took my hand and pulled me close before saying, “You don’t look different.” His head tilted. “Unless you want to say you look like mine.”
My mouth kicked up at the corner as I said, “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I squirmed in his arms. “I kind of like the sound of that.”
“These are some of my favorite quotes from my favorite authors,” I said after taking a quick sip of my beer, holding out my Kindle.
It was my second beer, but my fourth alcoholic beverage.
Denver, the president of the Dixie Wardens MC, had handed me a margarita the size of my head, and I’d finished that before I’d even grabbed dinner.
Another member, his name was Thumper, had offered me my next drink. A whiskey on the rocks that he bet that I couldn’t drink without grimacing.
Spoiler alert, I’d not only finished it without a grimace, but I’d enjoyed it.
I’d had to inform him that my dad had been a fan of single malt whiskey, and I’d always been able to steal some when I was looking for a buzz.
Now I was on the second beer after Gentry had handed me my first and my second one.
Somehow, the topic of my reading choices had come up again, which led us to here and now.
I was on Gentry’s lap, with my Kindle in my hand, showing him my most highlighted quotes.
“Which one?” Gentry asked, taking a sip of his beer, the long fingers of his left hand wrapped carelessly around the neck.
His right hand was around the back of my neck, his thumb sweeping across the pulse of my throat absently, almost as if he hadn’t been aware that he was doing it.
“Oh, this I have to hear,” Holly declared as she took a quick seat in Denver, her man’s, lap.
“What are we hearing?” Eddy asked.
Eddy was with Weaver across the fire from us, not sitting in his lap, but on the ground on a blanket between his splayed thighs. Her head was resting on his leg, and she had a huge mug of hot cocoa in her hands as she sipped it steadily.
Eddy’s sister, Nettie, was leaning a hand on the same blanket, a couple feet away from Boone, her man. Boone was holding their daughter, Margie, in his arms.
Odin and Constance were also there, along with Mable and Romeo.
Sorcha and Major had just left to go home with their passed-out grandkids, but Sorcha had given me a few reading recommendations before she’d left as well.
Apparently, all of us were avid romance readers.
And our men were eating it up.
They had no idea what kind of freaks their wives were.
“Let me see that.” Gentry paused, his eyes widening. “Is this seriously one of your favorites?”
I nodded.
“Read it,” Denver urged. “I’m dying over here.”
“That’s my wife!”
“Ohhhh!” Nettie nodded. “That’s one of my favorite lines, too. When he’s all snarly and mad, and he’s ready to take on the world for her. Him shouting out ‘That’s my wife!’ is God tier.”
“What else?” Gentry held my Kindle back out to me.
I found the next quote, and I swear I saw his ears turn pink.
“You’re serious.”
“Read it!” Weaver laughed jovially.
Gentry cleared his throat before saying, “I want you on your knees, ass in the air, hands on the headboard. Don’t move and take my cock like a good little girl.”
The women squealed in delight.
All of us but Nettie were drunk, so of course we sounded obnoxious when we did.
“You have a really great voice,” Ida Bell, Boone’s sister, admitted. “Have you ever thought about being an audiobook narrator?”
Gentry shook his head. “Next.”
I found him the next quote and sighed.