Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Neither should the hard-on pressing against her hip.
Or the hand cupping her ass.
Or those lips curled up in a knowing smile.
Or those dark, heated eyes locked with hers.
She swallowed so she could loosen her throat enough to speak. “Can you—”
“Mornin’,” he repeated, cutting off her request.
The man was too damn confident for his own good.
When she went to climb off him, he kept her there. Pressed against his body. The steady beat of his heart thumping against the hand she had planted on his very warm chest. “Stone…”
A grin slowly spread across his face as he released his hold on her so she could scramble to her feet. She quickly checked to make sure one of her boobs didn’t escape the side of her tank top in an attempt to wave hello.
“Mornin’,” he repeated for a third time.
Taryn was sensing a theme. “Morning.”
With a loud yawn, he sat up. “Way you were checkin’ me out, figured you might be interested in a mornin’ quickie.” Clawing his fingers through his long, black hair did the exact opposite of taming that wild mane.
She wondered if he even owned a brush. She definitely didn’t notice any hair products for men in the bathroom.
Hell, she wouldn’t be surprised if his cologne was gasoline and his beard oil made from motor oil.
When he scratched his bare chest, her eyes focused on where his long fingers touched.
When he scrubbed them down his beard, she got sucked in watching that, too.
Her reaction was not good. Since he was not her type, it made no damn sense.
Yes, he was hot.
Yes, he was surprisingly sexy.
But she had never been into “bad boy” types, and if anyone fit that bill, it was the man sitting on the couch making her insides feel as warm as his skin had been.
Making her fingers itch to explore every tattoo.
You’re here to do a job in exchange for a roof over your head and some protection. That’s it. Don’t let him distract you.
Right. Onto the business at hand. “Hungry?”
“Definitely could eat. How d’you want me to do that?” He added a cocky grin.
“The kitchen table’s a good place.”
“I’m good with that, too. We just gotta hurry before the kids wake up. How quiet can you be?”
Her traitor pussy twinged in response.
He seemed determined to throw her off her game. “Does Sunny like waffles?”
“Her father sure as fuck does. Long as they ain’t blue.”
What? “Blue waffles? Do you mean blueberry?”
One side of his mouth pulled up. “Know you like to look up shit on your cell phone, babe. Best if you skip that search.”
She stared at him. “I’m going to take a wild guess here and say blue waffles have nothing to do with food.”
“Yeah, ain’t nothin’ you’d wanna eat.”
“Since you must’ve tried them, I’ll take your word for it.”
He chuckled, then stood and arched his back, stretching it. “Fuck, my back’s killin’ me.” That movement caused her to visually explore his unexpectedly fit body. It was nothing like Patch’s. Or Gooch’s. Or, hell, most of the other bikers she had come into contact with already. “Why don’t you sleep in the bunkbed in Sunny’s room?”
“More space on the couch than in that fuckin’ bunkbed.”
“Would you rather Wren and I take the bunkbeds and you and Sunny share the bed in your room?” Then maybe she wouldn’t wake up sore from being kicked.
One dark eyebrow raised. “Don’t mind sharin’ my bed, just not with my girl.”
“Why?”
“Ain’t obvious?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if it was.”
He grabbed his crotch, drawing her eyes back to his erection.
“Oh.” That.
Damn.
She agreed that would get awkward, even if it was a completely normal function for a man.
“Yeah, oh. Wanna help me get rid of it before the nut nuggets roll downstairs for breakfast?”
“Sure. Stand right there.” She pointed to the spot in front of her.
A sly grin curved his lips as he moved into place.
When his hands went to his already partially opened zipper, she stopped him with an extended palm. “No reason to remove your jeans.”
Creases marred his forehead. “Then how you gonna suck me off?”
“I was planning on kneeing you in the nuts. I figured that would help with that issue.”
“Not what I was thinkin’.”
“Of course not. Also, can you refrain from calling the kids nut nuggets in front of them? I really don’t need Wren going to school and proudly announcing that he’s a nut nugget.” Because her son would definitely do that. Especially with the way he seemed to worship Stone last night.
“Well, he is.”
“Debatable. All right, if you think she’ll eat them, I’ll go make waffles.”
“Want help?”
Her eyes went wide. “Are you offering?”
“Fuck no. Gonna go wake up Sunny. Good if she learns how to make her dad waffles. Girl needs to earn her damn keep.”
Was he joking? Or was he only trying to pull a reaction from her?