Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I concede. “But only because I like you.”
Preacher grins. “I promise it’ll be worth your while.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
He blinks at my abrupt change and opens his mouth, probably to offer up more mansplaining. “Okay. Go get a jacket. You’re not riding like that. Do you need to tell Kathy you’re leaving?”
I shake my head. My mom went to her room after she finished eating. “She rarely notices when I’m gone, and with the news about Frank, she won’t give a damn.” I run back to my room and grab a jean jacket from the closet and then call out to my mom, “I’m leaving with Preacher! Be back soon!”
Outside, I head to the oversized leather and chrome monster chillin’ on the street in front of my house. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get on the back of this baby.”
I turn to Preacher, and he’s still on the porch, staring at me like he thinks I might be a little bit crazy.
He's not wrong.
The front door of Ro’s house flies open, and my best friend rushes out with wide, wild eyes. “Gia, what is going on? I’ve been waiting for you to call or text me back.”
“Oh, fuck girlfriend! I’m sorry.” I call out to her and when she gets closer and wrap a comforting arm around her. “No worries, Ro. Some guys from the same gang as the other night broke in, and Preacher kicked their asses.”
I nod to the stoic man standing a few feet from us.
“Preacher, this is my best friend, Romina, but we all call her Ro.”
Preacher holds out his hand like the gentleman he is underneath all that leather and denim.
“It’s nice to meet you, Romina.”
“Uhm, you too.” She turns to me. “Where are you going?”
I sigh because I know Ro’s not gonna like what I’m about to say. “The President of Preacher’s MC needs to speak with me.”
“The what? Do you know how scary Presidents are? Have you lost your mind?”
I smile at her outrage and confusion. “I’m gonna be fine, Ro. I don’t know exactly what it’s about, but Preacher Man here thinks those bikers were here to kidnap me, and, well, that’s about all I know so far.”
Ro looks from me and then to Preacher, suspicious as hell. “And what if he’s trying to kidnap you for the same reason?”
“I’m not,” Preacher adds with a frown. “We already have someone with Gia’s skills in the MC, so it’s not necessary.”
“See, Ro, they don’t need me.” Which honestly gives me a shit ton of relief. “So let’s take this baby for a spin, Preach. Ro, I’ll text you later. Promise, babes.”
She takes a step back, still unhappy as she eyes Preacher warily, and then because my girl is super smart, she takes a quick photo of his license plate.
“Text me by midnight or else.”
She holds up her phone and says, “Gia, you know I’ve got your location on my phone. Don’t make me come looking for you.”
“Will do,” I promise and pat the seat in front of me for Preacher.
He stares at me and hands me his helmet. “You ever been on a bike before?”
I shake my head. “No, but I’m a quick study, and I’ve always wanted to ride on the back of a motorcycle.”
“Well, first of all, I get on first. Not the passenger.”
“Oops.” I hop off the bike and wait for Preacher to settle his big body on the leather seat. He moves gracefully for a guy his size, and I can’t look away.
“Put your hands on my shoulders and sit close.”
“Yes, please,” I practically purr after watching the way his forearm muscles bunch and flex on the handlebars. I happily use the peg and Preacher’s strong shoulders to help me settle on the back of the bike. Then I press my tits against his back, my arms tight around his middle.
“Ready, big guy.”
Preacher laughs. “Hang on tight.”
“Oh, I absolutely will,” I tell him and let my hands roam up and down the hard ripples of his abs, and because I can, I let my hands slide up to his massively sculpted pecs. “Definitely will hang on tight.”
“Keep it clean, Gia.” His voice is gruff but also amused, which means he’s not totally immune to me and my charms.
The engine starts, and I don’t know what is more appealing, the vibrating between my thighs, the feel of my body pressed against Preacher, or the wind against my arms and legs as we cut through the streets of Angel Harbor.
My heart races as I think about what I might see at the clubhouse. I think Preacher is a good man, but I can’t help but worry about what kind of life he leads.
But then again, he’s all man and hot as fuck. I think my good sense just flew out the proverbial window.