Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Ah, the loves-anal girl.
Tyler shows no shame as he gropes her and makes out with her, clearly not worried about anyone finding out.
Little does he know…
I pull out my phone and snap a picture of him kissing her, both hands hungrily grabbing her ass. Once he steps inside and closes the door, I pull away, heart racing with purpose.
Now it’s more than just wanting Mira for my own. It’s about saving her from this.
From him.
Even if she resists. Even if she doesn’t want to be saved. I haven’t been able to catch a full breath since the first time I had her in the storage closet back at the shop, and I know I won’t be able to breathe again until she’s in my house, in my bed, and in my life for good.
I’m not a doctor, a lawyer, or whatever it is Tyler does, but I’m loyal. I’m strong. I have hands that fix things, a home that’s safe, and a heart that beats only for her.
You’re mine, Mira.
You just don’t know it yet.
But you will. Soon.
Very soon.
5
FINN
I’m covered in grease, and sweat is dripping down my spine, but my hands are steady and firm as I wrench the bolt free. The metal of the engine groans in protest, as do I, as a dull ache runs through my back. I just ignore it. It’s nothing compared to the ache of loss I’ve felt every day since I last saw Mira.
The memory of her scent, her warmth, her taste, the sound of her voice—it’s been playing on a non-stop loop in my mind every moment we’ve been apart. I didn’t claim her behind Jayne’s on my bike, and goddamn it, I should have. She was so soft and sweet and innocent as she moaned on my cock while I slid it in and out of her tender lips.
Just knowing I had the opportunity right there and I blew it is like a sore that’s been eating away at me. My want for her has grown into something desperate. A need. And if I don’t do something about it soon, I’m going to fall apart.
But what can I do?
Go sit outside her house again until security shows up, or worse, she calls the cops on me? Sit outside Tyler’s office and wait to see if she goes to visit him? I don’t have the money, the power, or the influence her family does. I’m just a mechanic. A biker. The bottom tier of society. If the Coolidges want me to end up as nothing more than a spot of dirt beneath their expensive shoe, then that’s what I’ll be.
No, I have to play this one right. Carefully.
But no matter what, I will make Mira mine.
The sound of a car engine outside causes me to look up from the bike I’m working on. I wipe my hands on a rag, and my heart skips a beat when I see a Benz pull into the lot—a Benz I’ve seen before.
Mira.
The car door opens, and first, I see her leg. Long, sleek, lustrous, and sensual. She’s wearing a pair of black heels with red bottoms, a slim-fit red skirt, and a tight white top that shows off the perfection of her curves. Her chestnut hair is up in a bun, accentuating the flawless lines of her face, but her eyes are hidden behind a pair of large, black designer sunglasses. My cock twitches at the sight of her. She could not be any more perfect. I want her so goddamn bad.
She walks toward me like a dream. My Mira, dressed like a model, her hips swaying like the personification of feminine energy. Her legs look a mile long as she moves, and I can’t stop thinking about her juicy little slit at their apex, just waiting for my cock to split her open.
My pulse kicks hard like a mule as she approaches. I feel the eyes from the other guys as they look over at me, but I ignore them. My life is her and only her right now.
She isn’t smiling. But I’m fine with that. There’s nothing funny about our situation—our relationship. If anything, her circumstances are more dire than she knows.
“Finn,” she says, stopping maybe a foot away from me, one hand planted sassily on her hip. “Are you stalking me?”
My mouth goes dry. “What do you mean, princess?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she replies, pulling her phone from her purse. She swipes and shows me a photo of me, sitting on my bike, parked across the street from her house. Shit. “Security footage from the other night. So I ask you again—”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” My response shuts her up. In fact, her breath hitches, and she blinks several times, shocked by my reply.
“Excuse me?”
“You ever think there may have been another reason I was there?” I ask. “Other than stalking you?”