Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“A woman claimed by one of the brothers,” Skyhigh explains, without really telling me anything.
“So like one of the girls I saw at the club last night?”
“Nah,” Blackout says with a laugh. “Yeah, sometimes the guys bring their old ladies around if they’re in the mood, but I think it was just sluts and wannabes last night.”
“Is that what I was? That’s what you meant when you said I was free game because I wasn’t with a man?” Ugh. “I don’t know about—”
Skyhigh takes the helmet and sets it on my head, tucking my hair behind my ears as he adjusts the fit. “I won’t sugar coat it. There’s a whole lot that ain’t pretty about our lives, but don’t judge a world you don’t live in, baby. Or people you don’t even fucking know.” He doesn’t sound pissed exactly, but it’s the voice of a man who’s done apologizing for his life and I can respect that.
I can’t say I’m thrilled with calling women sluts and old ladies, but I nod. “Okay. Then show me, but can I at least ask if any of you have women who… belong to you?
Dragon levels a dark look at me, chin tipped up like he’s borderline insulted. “No.”
“No I can’t ask? Or?”
“Stop fucking with the poor girl.” Blackout rolls his eyes at Dragon. “When it’s just us, honey? Ask whatever you fucking want. If we don’t want to answer, we won’t. And no, we don’t turn down a good time if we’re in the mood, but none of us have a regular girl or anyone who thinks they have a claim.”
A knot loosens in my chest. I can handle the implications of ‘we’re no angels’ from a bunch of single guys that live in orgy central, but the idea that one or more of them might have a girlfriend and they’re still acting like this with me would definitely be a deal breaker. I slip into the jacket. Despite the thick leather, the inside is soft and it’s not as heavy as it looks. A little big just like the helmet, but not a bad fit.
“You’re with Blackout,” Skyhigh says, gesturing to the bikes lined up in front of my house.
I start to ask which bike is which but stop.
The first is dark red with black trim. There's a serpentine dragon detailed with amazing detail onto the tank in gorgeous gold paint, and the front wheel cover looks like pure, airbrushed flames. It's a sleek bike, but the engine looks huge, which suits Dragon perfectly. Dark, sexy and powerful.
The next one is totally different. All shining silver chrome, with a paint job that mimics ripples on the surface of pure blue water. It looks built for speed. Nimble. Definitely not small or dainty, but like an ocean blue lightning strike.
The last bike is all black. Even the engine and chrome are black, like it's just the shadow of a motorcycle. In the dark of night, if it wasn't for the streetlight over it, it'd be basically invisible. I walk straight for it, and Blackout chuckles. “Is it that obvious?”
“Were you guys trying to be subtle?”
Skyhigh laughs. “Where’s the fun in subtle?”
Blackout pats the saddle. “I'll get on first to keep it steady, and then you climb on behind me. Keep your feet on the pegs and lean when I do. And hold as tight as you want. Won’t get any complaints from me.”
When I was growing up, my parents dragged me all over the world, and because they only really worked for whatever retreat or collective we were staying at, it wasn’t exactly a luxury experience. I’ve clung to the back of more than one little moped and motorbike, but as I actually try to swing my leg over Blackjack’s motorcycle, I realize how much bigger it really is. To get into position, I have to really press myself right up against his broad back and straddle his narrow hips. When I wrap my arms around his torso, I can barely reach.
“Ready?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Yes?”
He starts the bike, and it turns out I wasn't ready at all. Size isn’t the only difference. It comes to life with a roar, like a lion that was rudely awakened, then settles into the kind of big cat purr that rumbles through my whole body, starting right between my legs. I had no idea the size of the engine would make this much difference.
Dragon and Skyhigh fire up their bikes, and the guys fall into position. Skyhigh leads, with me and Blackout in the middle and off a bit to the right, and then Dragon slides into place at the back, in line with Skyhigh.
My heart leaps into my throat as Blackout opens the throttle, sending us flying down the empty street. The echoes of the growling engines off the houses makes it sound like a whole army of motorcycles instead of just the three of us. When we round the corner in the direction of the club, I try to lean like Blackout does, and make the mistake of looking down at the road that’s flying by only inches from my feet.