Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93698 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
But despite her brain being logical, she had too many other parts of her being the opposite.
Sleeping with Zeke wasn’t smart. She knew that. Her common sense needed to smack her upside the head.
Having sex with him again would only give him more fodder to be bossy and possessive.
She knew that, too.
“That buffet is closed, Zeke.”
“Bullshit. Bet I can get it up and runnin’.”
“I’m seeing someone. Remember?”
“Didn’t stop you last time.”
Ouch.
“Bet he don’t make you wet like I do.”
He didn’t. But, again, not everything was about sex.
“Want to chow down on your cunt ’til you come and cover my face in your juices.”
Instead of rolling her eyes, she shuddered. While his words were raw and unromantic, they turned her on to no end. Unfortunately.
Why, why, why, why was he like her crack?
A dangerous addiction she couldn’t kick.
Her weakness over him due to his bad boy charm…
His sexy swagger…
His “not give a fuck” attitude…
Any and all of that was why she’d left Shadow Valley in the first place. She had figured—and hoped—distance might break that spell.
She was wrong. However, something else was becoming very clear…
Glen did not make her nipples stand at attention. He did not make her pussy slick. Or make her want to climb him like a tree.
He was comfortable. Like a warm blanket.
While Zeke set that blanket on fire.
He made her pulse race. Her pussy throb. Her clit quiver.
Her toes curl.
But life was more than hot, satisfying sex, right?
Being consistent. Responsible. Solid. Law-abiding.
None of that would describe the man currently pressing his erection into her belly.
The man with whom she shared a child.
Only, she didn’t want to deal with reality.
Because the reality was: she didn’t want Glen.
She wanted Zeke.
No matter how bad he was for her.
No matter how much he lived up to his road name.
No matter how many times he’d been in prison.
No matter he was the freaking president of a motorcycle club.
Despite fighting it, she was sliding down that slippery slope again.
She thought she’d grown stronger than this.
But no. The truth was, she was weak.
And Zeke was her fucking kryptonite.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Want you naked.”
I want you naked, too.
But if she admitted that out loud she might as well admit defeat.
She was losing this tug of war of Zeke trying to pull her back into his life. When she tugged hard, he tugged back even harder. It was to the point where her hands were tired, blistered, and bloody. She could feel that rope slipping from between her fingers.
Proof of her losing that battle was both of them in her bedroom behind a locked door.
At least he wasn’t currently being cocky about it. Or crowing about how he could easily talk her out of her clothes.
Not that he needed to because, of course, they were both shedding their clothes while watching each other do so.
However, unlike him, she didn’t have much to remove. It should come as no surprise that he didn’t seem to care that he had the advantage. By the time she was fully naked, he still wore his jeans and boxer briefs.
Was she impatient for him to finish baring all?
Yes, but telling him so would give him another win. And the man needed to be more humble.
Of course, he already knew how much he turned her on. Clearly evident by his smirk as he reached for the top button of his jeans.
And the way he was slowly unzipping them.
Like a damn tease.
All he needed was some upbeat music and smooth dance moves for him to star in one of the many male revue shows in Vegas.
He paused with his clunky DAMC belt buckle undone and his jeans hanging loosely off his narrow hips. “Why you still standin’ there?”
“I’m waiting for you to catch up. But as slow as you’re moving, at least you’re giving me a chance to rethink this whole thing.”
“Whatya mean rethink?”
“My common sense is telling me what a mistake this will be.” Not to mention, recent history had proven it.
He cupped his denim-covered crotch. “What’s your pussy tellin’ you?”
To toss that common sense out the freaking window, of course. “I haven’t had a conversation with it yet.”
One side of his deliciously sexy mouth hiked up. “Gonna have a close conversation with it soon. Gonna let you know what it says.” He shoved his jeans down and they landed with a thump around his ankles. His erection bounced as he stepped free from the pile of denim and cotton boxer briefs.
She took him in from top to toe. But she had to do a double-take. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. She could barely squeeze out his name.
Zeke’s eyebrows slammed together. “What?”
“When the hell did you get that done?” The newest tattoo on his chest was still fresh.
He glanced down. “Coupla days ago.” He lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Like it?”