Boomer (Cerberus MC #25) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Cerberus MC Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
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“That makes sense,” I say, wondering how long I can act normal, and if doing so, keeping the flirting to a base level, will keep Boomer right in front of me.

I try to keep my eyes off his lips unless he’s speaking. I think I manage to only glance at his hands a half a dozen times. I don’t say anything suggestive, and he stays across from me for the better part of an hour as we all chat.

He does eat his ice cream cone, using his teeth to bite rather than his tongue to lick, and it has no less of an effect on me than the latter would’ve. Just as I predicted, I’m locked at the picnic table because there’s absolutely no way to hide my erection in my tight shorts.

“We need a guys’ trip,” Ugly says. “You realize that we’re the only two single guys left, right?”

“So Aro finally bit the bullet?”

Ugly smiles. “The man is head over heels.”

“Good for them,” I say honestly, wondering if Boomer has avoided the bar because he got caught by the newest Cerberus couple with his lips on another man.

“I’m single, too,” I say, considering it might be pushing a little too much.

Ugly nods. “You should come with us.”

“I didn’t agree to anything,” Boomer says. “But you two have fun.”

“Nope,” Ugly says with a clap to his friend’s back. “You’re going, too.”

Chapter 11

Boomer

“I don’t understand driving in today when the game isn’t until tomorrow,” I mutter from the back seat of the SUV.

I didn’t hesitate to jump back here when we pulled up outside of Jake’s and Ugly announced that Drake was coming with us.

I know I wouldn’t be able to handle a nearly eight-hour drive with the man staring at the back of my head. I’d be insane before we made it to Denver.

“I didn’t want the entire day to be a rush,” Ugly says, his eyes locked on the road.

“Yet, you’re going eighty in a fifty-five,” I mutter.

“At night,” Drake adds from the passenger seat, as if he’s a little on edge as well.

Ugly sighs as he pulls his foot from the gas pedal.

Conversation is a little stilted as we get closer to Denver. Even Ugly doesn’t open his mouth to speak, and it makes my suspicion grow every second. The man always finds something to say.

“Did you both bring a suit?” Ugly asks as he slows to take the exit into town.

“I did,” Drake says.

“You didn’t mention a suit, jackass,” I mutter. “Why would we need a suit?”

“Dinner,” Ugly says, but I know he’s lying the second his eyes find mine in the rearview mirror. “And a show.”

“We’re not exactly dinner-and-a-show people,” I say. “I’m not going to a strip club.”

It’s not that I haven’t been to one before. You can’t really make it through Marine combat training without being peer pressured into it, but I know I didn’t enjoy the ones I’ve gone to in the past.

I’ve done very well to avoid Drake since that kiss, but I’m not sure I could control my face if I had to witness him getting a lap dance by some beautiful woman.

“We’re not going to a strip club,” Ugly says but his assurance sounds more like smoke and mirrors than a way to calm my fears.

Drake chuckles, the sound making me think he just figured something out, but he doesn’t share the information.

“This is going to be so much fun,” he says instead.

***

“You didn’t think to mention this around the same time you swore that we weren’t going to a strip club?”

Drake laughs once again, but I don’t get the feeling he’s laughing at me, so I let it slide.

We’ve already checked into our hotel rooms and dropped off our luggage.

Drake and Ugly have both changed into nice suits, but I don’t feel out of place, staring up at the sign, in blue jeans and a t-shirt.

I’m not wearing my leather cut because Ugly was adamant that we wouldn’t need it where we were going. Besides, the three-headed hellhound wouldn’t exactly pair well with the Gucci suit Ugly has on.

“If you’re worried about the price, don’t be,” Ugly says as he opens the driver’s side door. “I’ve paid for your entry fee.”

“I wasn’t worried about the price,” I mutter as I climb out of the back seat on the driver’s side.

I’ve done this now both times I’ve gotten out of the vehicle, making sure not to place myself on the same side as Drake. It feels a little childish, but at the same time, I can only resist the man for so long. It took herculean strength not to stare at him the entire seven-hour drive to Denver.

“Maybe I can just swing back and pick you up when you two are done?” I say through clenched teeth, more annoyed now than I was at the thought of Drake getting a lap dance.


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