Series: Straight to Hell MC Series by Sam Crescent
Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
He got up to calm her down, but she was already changing clothes in an angry frenzy. She froze when she saw him, standing at the dresser in just her bra and panties. Fuck, her body was thick and to die for. Strong hips and huge, soft tits. His mouth watered just looking at her. He should have apologized and tapped out right away.
Only he didn’t. Reaper walked toward her, and she hadn’t moved or yelled for him to fuck off yet.
“Damn, you’re perfect,” he said. Reaper smoothed a hand over her hair and gripped the back of her neck. She let out a barely audible gasp. They stared at each other. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. He leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth.
The moment their lips met, weeks of restrained longing shattered. It wasn’t a tentative kiss or a careful one—it was everything they’d swallowed down, denied, and fought against crashing free in a single, breathless heartbeat. He kissed her like he’d been starving for the chance. Her lips were soft and sweet, those little mewling sounds driving him crazy. She immediately reciprocated, kissing him back, and wrapping her arms up over his shoulders.
“I don’t want a sweet-butt,” he said, close to her lips. “I want you.”
“I can’t share. I’m not that kind of girl, and I’m too sensitive to deal with it.”
He ran his hand down her back, then over the globe of her ass. “Who said you had to share? You prejudging me again?” He kissed her neck, pulling her lower body against him.
All he could think about was throwing her on the bed and spreading her legs. But he had to restrain himself, had to remember she was a good girl.
“You’re a man. A biker.”
“And I’m all yours.”
They kissed again, once, twice. Softly this time. Her anger had dissipated.
The room was too quiet, a bit of awkwardness creeping in.
“How did this happen?” she whispered.
He smiled. “I guess it was there all the time. I felt a spark from the first time I saw you. You had fire.”
“And I was an idiot.” She let out a little laugh.
How could he fall in love so fast? So intensely. Reaper was an expert at guarding his heart and hiding his pain. With Grace, it was so easy, so natural to let it all go.
“You can’t stay here, Grace. The world isn’t always a safe place.”
“But it’s my home. I can’t leave Bob, either.”
He froze, his hackles up as he leaned away from her. “Who the fuck is Bob?”
She smirked, nodding to the door of her bedroom.
He turned around quickly and looked to the entrance. That big, fat cat was sitting there watching them.
“The cat?”
“Bob.”
Reaper instantly relaxed. He’d always hated cats because he couldn’t read them. And they scratched. But he couldn’t deny Grace anything.
“You can bring him, I guess.”
“I won’t be comfortable in a place like that,” she said. “And I never will.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll be with me. I have a big king bed, remember?”
She was sulking but he knew she’d already given in to the idea for her own safety.
“I don’t drive and I still have work and volunteering. This is just until you figure out who’s following me, right?”
“Yeah.”
He planned to keep her. He was never letting her go.
Chapter Eight
The clubhouse was everything Grace was afraid of.
There were a lot of people, a lot of bikers, and it absolutely terrified her, which was why she stayed in Reaper’s bedroom ever since this morning. Reaper had brought her to the club, introduced her to a load of people, most whose names she couldn’t remember. There were so many of them. All dressed in some form of leather cut.
If her parents were still alive, she had a sneaking suspicion they would have cut her off by now. Maybe called her a traitor to her sister’s memory.
Life was getting so complicated, and she kept trying to think of a good reasonable excuse as to why a black SUV should be near her. It had to be a coincidence. Only, Grace knew there were not a lot of coincidences in her world. There was nothing more than nightmares.
She sat on the edge of Reaper’s bed. He brought her to his room and told her to get comfortable, settle herself in, as he needed to go and do something. He didn’t elaborate on what that was, and now she sat all alone, unsure what to do with herself. All the time, replaying that kiss.
She knew there had been tension between them. She hadn’t thought it was sexual tension, but the way he held her, the way he grabbed her, even now she couldn’t help but close her eyes, feeling so ... aroused. This was not what she wanted.
And yet, that was exactly what she wanted. She pressed the tips of her fingers against her lips, and it was like he was right there, in the room with her, which was crazy. She took a deep breath, and then felt a little sick.