Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
I huff. “Yes, you idiot.”
“Just making sure I heard you right.”
I roll my eyes and go to inch toward the open door. “Maybe I should ask someone else. Is your friend here?”
“Woah, Savage. No need to be hasty,” he says. “Give me two seconds, and I’m all yours.”
He disappears back into the apartment, and I watch from the front door as he hurries down the hall. A second later, he appears in a pair of dark pants while pulling on a leather jacket. “Yo,” he calls out to his friend. “I’m heading out. Catch ya, later.”
Maddox doesn’t wait for a response before he collects his helmet off the coffee table and strides out the door.
“Whatcha waiting for?” he says, indicating for me to get moving, and I do just that, more than ready for one hell of a messy night. “You know, you showing up like this and demanding I take you out is going to inflate my ego.”
We walk down the hall, and I press the call button for the elevator as I glance up at him, unable to keep the smile off my face. “Oh, I’m painfully aware.”
Maddox grins, and as the elevator doors roll open, he grasps the back of my neck. “Come on, Savage,” he rasps, leading me into the elevator. Then as the doors close behind us, he presses me against the cool wall, his lips crushing down on mine, devouring every inch of my mouth as Hunter Cole’s text sits on read.
8
MADDOX
Not gonna lie, I’m more than pleased with myself. Having Lyra show up at the door, looking for me, and not for a fuck fest, but something more . . . shit. It feels good. Whether she realizes what that means or not.
She had a rough night, and while I have questions, the fact that she came to me must mean something, because otherwise, the past week of me obsessing over this woman and camping out at Hunter’s place in the hope of running into her would all be for nothing.
I get it. I’m a fucking idiot. Hoping for something that will likely never happen, but she’s too fucking gorgeous not to.
She came to me.
Out of all the bastards she must have in her phone, just waiting for a call, she chose me. That’s got to mean something, right? Sure, I know I’m probably delusional. We don’t know anything about one another, and apart from a wildly incredible night up against a wall and some prime time flirting, there’s not much to base a relationship on, but I’m here for it. I want to get to know her. I need it.
Fuck, my ego is going to be fed for weeks to come.
We step out onto the sidewalk and the early morning air is much cooler than when I came through only a few short hours ago. The street is quieter than usual, and as I lead Lyra to my bike, I grab the helmet off my handlebars.
I pause beside the bike and lift it to her head, and she waits patiently as I fix it into place, my fingers brushing over her jaw as she stares up at me with those big green eyes, daring me to either sweep her away or bite her. I can’t really tell yet.
After fastening the buckle under her chin, I bop the top of her head and smile down at her. “Cute.”
“I look like a giant bobblehead.”
“A hot bobblehead.”
She steps up next to my bike, really looking it over, and I can all but read her thoughts. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Come on, let me drive.”
I bark out a laugh so fast I almost offend myself. “Hell no.”
She looks up at me with those big green eyes, laying it on thick, and while that might work for everything else, it’s a hard pass when it comes to my bike.
Swinging one leg over the bike, I settle into place and fix her with a stare of my own. “Savage, you can bat those pretty eyes at me all you want, but no matter how good you taste, how loud you scream, or pant for more, nobody drives my bike, but me.”
Lyra lets out a small huff before finally caving, and stepping in close. She rests her hand on my shoulder, grasping it tight, before swinging one leg over the sleek bike. Looking over my shoulder, I see her eyes sparkling, and she tries to stifle her smirk as she settles in behind me.
“Hold on tight,” I say.
Her hands slide along my waist, curling around my body, and instead of holding on, they move over my chest and abs, exploring, wandering, clutching onto the front of my thighs, and touching me everywhere but the one place I crave her the most.
Jesus Christ. This girl.
I’m in trouble.
I try to block it out, but I know this is going to be the ride from hell. “Ready?” I ask.