Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
My nails dig into his shoulders. “Harder.” His hips move in a merciless rhythm, driving me higher and higher.
“You like this, huh?” He grunts, our bodies slapping together in a primal rhythm.
“Yes,” I moan. “Harder... more...”
He drives into me relentlessly, his iron grip bruising my hips, but I don't care. I want more, need more, the pleasure and pain coalescing into one explosive swirl.
His thrusts become erratic, his breathing ragged. “Fuck—”
My teeth sink into his shoulder to muffle my screams.
With a growl that rattles my bones, he drives one last desperate time into me. Hot cum slips out of my body and down my thighs as he collapses against my chest.
Minutes pass before he slowly lowers me to the ground, and I shift my clothes around the best I can.
Shit. Well. That didn’t take long.
He fixes his belt. “Stay with me.”
“What?” I whisper, my head turned slightly over my shoulder.
I need to put space between us.
“Stay with me,” he repeats.
“I can't. It'd be too obvious.” You will not fucking fold.
My fingers slip from his grasp as I stumble forward, gravel crunching beneath my feet when I see Jada and Millie heading out of the clubhouse.
My body betrays me. Every cell screams to turn back, to melt into his warmth, to have those rough hands on my skin whenever I want. But deep down, old wounds are still raw.
Jada bypasses the van, heading toward a glossy red muscle car. I'm no expert, but I recognize the older Dodge Charger. One of the Westbeach boys back home drives a black one just like it.
“Oh, you’re still coming?” Jada sasses, and God, I’ve missed her.
I fight back a smart reply, shooing Millie into the backseat so I can slip in beside her.
“In the front.” Hella’s voice stops me as he pulls the driver's side open.
My shoulders slump in defeat. Of course this is his car.
Of course he wants me in the front.
I yank open the passenger door and click my seatbelt. I should never have let him fuck me up against that damn tree.
Once we pull away from the clubhouse, Jada breaks the thick silence. “Garret said Hellraiser is finished?”
Hellraiser, Hella's bike. Though I couldn't imagine what work it needed. The sexiest machine I'd ever laid eyes on, painted in the same red as this car, the colour of hell itself.
I stifle a laugh at the connection.
Hella looks into the rearview mirror at Jada, one hand relaxed on the wheel, the other on his knee, leaning to the side. “Yeah, it's finished.”
“You take it home or leave it there?”
“Home,” his answer clipped. I never thought of Hella having a home, since all he seems to do is be here.
Millie clears her throat from the back. “Isn't this the same car Chase had?” she asks innocently.
Bless her heart. She has no clue how badly I want to burst out laughing.
His grip tightens around the steering wheel, the deep rumble of the V8 engine vibrating beneath my ass.
He stretches his neck to the side, as if contemplating whether he wants to flip out or not.
A laugh escapes before I can catch it. “Nah, that was a Bumble Bee.”
“A Bumble Bee?” Hella's eyes flick to me, scanning my face before returning to the gravel road ahead.
“Yeah, you know, the Transformer.”
“Isn't your best friend the biggest car enthusiast in the southern, and most likely northern, hemisphere? You should know that Bumble Bee's a Chevy Camaro.” His jaw muscle jumps beneath his skin.
I flash my sweetest smile, tracing the demon emblem over his dash. “Sorry, couldn't tell what it was from the back seat.”
Tires skid against gravel as the car lurches to a sudden stop, throwing us all forward.
Jada's voice pierces through the cabin. “Hella! What the fuck!”
“Get out,” he growls, the idling engine rumbling beneath us like a caged beast.
Jada looks between us before grabbing Millie. “Fine! It'd be really great if you two could fuck each other out of each other's system, though!”
I glance at the house lights barely a minute's walk away as the car door slams behind Millie and Jada's hasty exit.
Hella turns, his gaze cutting through me. “You think this is a joke?”
I roll my eyes. “No, Hella, I don't, but I don't believe a fucking word that comes out of your mouth either.”
His hands work my belt buckle, then his own, before pushing his seat back. His fingers wrap around my wrist, tugging me forward, and I swing my leg over, settling across his lap as his palms trace down my spine.
He cups my ass, guiding my hips in slow circles against the rigid outline beneath his jeans. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, trapping the sound threatening to escape.
Weak. The word echoes in my head, but I can't bring myself to care.
His hand slips beneath my waistband, past the thin lace, fingers brushing over my clit with a rough edge before sliding deep inside. My body turns traitor, hips rocking against him, chasing the pressure of those fingers as they push further into me. The corner of his mouth lifts in that damn smirk, the one I've seen too many times, smug and knowing, like he's already won.