Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
But the mixed signals continue as he arches into me, lazily exploring my body with his rough fingers. While one of his hands settles on my nape, the other slides to my stomach. Even after coming, I’m so excited it’s hard to have a serious conversation with him, but I need to focus if I want to do this again.
Preferably without the stabby bit.
“Nah, it’s actually the other way around. I’m the only guy you can fuck around with without either of us getting killed,” I say, and when Clyde rolls his eyes at me, I grab his chin and move on top to get all of his attention. “We both have everything to lose. We’ll be careful,” I say, parting his legs with my knee. I need him thinking with his dick to get my way.
Damn, I’ve never felt this desperate for more after sex was over. He’s so solid in my arms, his muscles hard, shoulders and arms almost a match to my own. In comparison to our brief rutting, everything I’ve ever done with women seems painfully bland, as if I’ve only now gotten a taste of real liquor after a lifetime of living on flavored water.
Clyde groans and rubs the back of his head against the road. I love that he’s not pushing me off even as he’s overthinking the obvious.
It’s either me or no one, and he knows I’m right. He would have fucked around with someone out of state or something otherwise, but just like me, he finds it too risky.
“Fuck.” He takes one more deep breath, and looks into my eyes, tempting me into kissing him, but I won’t push my luck, no matter how soft his lips appear. “But just to be clear, we’re not ‘buddies’ now. I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. We’ll just be… two bodies. Two people who need something. Everything else stays the same.”
This time, I can’t hold in a snort and smell his hair as I lower my weight on to him. “Sure. You can be my fuck puppet. My sexy sack of juicy meat,” I say, squeezing his hard pec.
Clyde gasps but removes his hands from under my jacket. I already miss the touch. I’ll be fucking hungover after this high tomorrow.
“A hot male body to come with,” he whispers, once more avoiding my gaze.
In the ten years I’ve known him, I’ve never learned as much about him as tonight. I never really wondered about what Clyde Turner wants beyond being part of a powerful gang, making money, and sowing havoc. His club has been nothing but a hindrance for all the years since I joined the Vultures. He’s the brother of the man I killed, and still, all I want is to undress him and lie in a hot tub, quietly touching, so that club talk doesn’t ruin the mood.
I’ve never wanted anyone this much. I even think the avoidant part of him is doing it for me. Like I’m a wolf, and he’s a stag that bolted. I’ve got no idea if I have a chance of winning, but I’m still gonna chase.
“When do I see you again?”
I let him slide out from under me, and catch a glimpse of his soft cock as he tucks it back in.
“We got the burner phone, we’ll arrange something. I’ve got some… stuff to deal with.”
What stuff? I want to know everything about him all of a sudden. Not just like before—what he’s scheming as one of the Butchers. I want to know where he lives, who he meets, his daily routine, his dream bike, his favorite food, even who his tattoo artist is. I’m greedy, and only he can sate me.
This secret will be a wall between me and my family, my club, but if other people can lead double lives for years, why not me? I’ll just not let it affect me in the days between our meetings. It will be sex. Fun. Nothing more. We’re both guys, so how hard can it be to keep things drama-free?
We’ll fuck, maybe have a drink, then fuck again, wrestle a little maybe, and go back to hating each other on the daily.
I won’t let anything that happens between me and Clyde affect my club, and I know he feels the same way. “Fine.”
He gets up. I wasn’t expecting Clyde to smile at me, and my heart does a weird little backflip. He’s only ever scowled at me, mocked me, or picked fights, so this makes me feel kinda special. As though our rutting session was so good for him he can’t help but smile. And he looks damn handsome like that. Fucking biker catnip in the headlight of his vehicle. Long hair in disarray, stubble, black boots and a cigarette he sticks into his mouth.