Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“You needed it after yesterday.” His voice carried that gruff morning roughness that still made my stomach flip. “Both the riding and the fucking.”
I grinned into my mug. “Not complaining about either and I won’t ever.”
I set down my mug and turned to face him fully. The morning sun caught in his dark hair, highlighting the silver strands at his temples. I ran my hand over his stubbled jaw, feeling the prickle against my palm. Something restless stirred inside me as I looked at him.
“Let’s go somewhere,” I said suddenly.
Rip raised an eyebrow but didn’t hesitate. “Where?”
“Back to the Smokies.” The idea formed as I spoke it. “I want to ride those curves. Just us. We can make a day of it and come back tonight.”
The smile that spread across his face made my heart stutter in my chest. “When?”
“Right fucking now.” The urgency in my voice surprised even me. “We just got back, but I want more.”
Rip laughed, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “You are fucking incredible, you know that?” He pulled me against him, his coffee mug abandoned on the railing. “I think I created a monster.”
“I want to feel that freedom again. Just you and me and the road. I want to feel the bike vibrating between my legs until my clit’s aching with the need to come. Then I want you to bring me back home and fuck me the rest of the night and all day tomorrow.”
“Christ,” he groaned. “Come on. We’re leaving. Now.”
Rip texted Knight to let him know we were heading back out while I threw some clothes into a bag. Just in case. Excitement prickled my skin as soon as we made the decision. This was what I needed. The open road. The promise of new horizons. The ability to just go without asking permission or making excuses. I usually settled after a ride or two, but the trek from Nashville to Gatlinburg had become routine. Rip and I typically rode it a couple times a week or more.
After I dressed, I pulled the cut on over my tank top and headed back downstairs. Rip waited by the bike, our bag strapped down and ready to go. His face lit up when he saw me coming, the way it always did. Like I was a gift he never expected to receive.
“Ready?” he asked, holding my helmet out to me.
“Born ready.” I climbed onto the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around his waist. My body pressed against his back, my thighs cradling his ass intimately. The engine roared to life beneath us, the vibration traveling up through my legs, settling at my clit.
“Where to first?” he called over his shoulder as we pulled away from the curb.
“East,” I shouted back. “Just fucking east.”
We thundered through the compound gates and hit the open road. The morning air rushed against my face, cool and clean.
I tightened my grip around Rip’s waist and pressed my chest against his back, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my hands. The road stretched endlessly before us, full of possibilities. And for the first time in a very long time, I wasn’t afraid of a single fucking one of them.