Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Hammer froze halfway off his bike. “What is it?” he asked to give himself a bit more time.
“I’m just asking,” Dex said, polishing the fender at a faster pace. “We’ve been working on something inside, and—”
“Grinder’s come up with this idea to renovate the bar and, shockingly, he’s actually talked the guys into it. Now they’re doing his bidding while he finishes here,” Torcher exhaled a cloud of smoke, and while he was trying to make the praise sound a bit mean, it was still praise.
“Really?” Hammer asked as the sound of loud knocking pushed invisible nails into his brain. He needed to get his shit together, but when Dex peeked at him again with hope glinting in the chocolatey eyes, the sudden desperation gripping Hammer’s insides made him reach for a cigarette with a low hum. If he couldn’t knead Dex’s flesh, he’d busy his hands with something else.
“How did I never hear about this to date?”
“It’s a surprise,” Dex said with a sigh. Did he have any idea how appetizing he looked on his knees? The position reminded Hammer of how Dex had urged him, begged him, to be used whenever it struck Hammer’s fancy. Was that offer still on the table? “The guys told me it’s your birthday. Guess the cat’s out of the bag now. I even got Ros, you know, Shane’s boyfriend, to make a sculpture out of scrap to go on the wall behind the bar.”
Torcher got up. “Less talking, more cleaning.”
Hammer’s insides boiled, and he took a step forward, for a moment toying with the idea of telling Torcher off. But he didn’t because as a full member of the club, Torcher was well within his rights to command Dex, regardless of how Hammer felt about it.
But Dex rose as well, his good humor unaffected. “I just finished.”
Torcher scooted by the motorcycle with a skeptical expression, but his eyebrows rose as he ran his fingers over the underside of the fender. “You’ve done real good actually.”
Dex stood a bit taller. “You learn all about the best products when you clean up crime scenes.”
“No shit,” Torcher said, but his voice was like a blot somewhere on the edge of the page that had Dex’s handsome face in its center.
“And you’re saying you made all those lazy asses work for what is essentially a cosmetic change? What did you do to convince them?” Hammer asked, but his good humor was disturbed when the dark recesses of his brain came up with answers, which all featured Dex on his knees, sucking biker dick.
Dex led the way inside, but he put his hands into his pockets and held his arms close to his body, as if wanting to avoid accidentally touching Hammer at all cost. Which made for a confusing mixture with the way he held Hammer’s gaze for a prolonged time when he spoke.
“Oh, it was super easy once I explained to them how many hot women will come here if the bar is cool instead of a rundown janitor’s shed that smells of piss.”
Hammer chuckled, surprised. “I’ve told them before. I suppose you’re more convincing with your—” He smiled, and moved his hand in a frantic fashion before realizing how awkward that was and stuffing it into his pocket. Why the fuck had he done that? “I suppose the animal shelter might be another draw. Women love pets.” And now he was talking about pets instead of kissing Dex’s soft lips and grinding him into the wall. Why was he denying himself again?
Right. Reason.
“Just look at Cora. She’d die for her cats. Do you want pets? I planned a party tonight, for after we wrap up the renovations, but maybe you’d rather go get a puppy for your birthday?” Dex asked as if adopting a pet on a whim made any sense.
“Is it an either or kind of situation? Or can I have both?” Hammer asked, lacing his fingers on his nape as he took in the massive change in the clubhouse’s main room. Sure, the sofas and chairs were as ratty as they’d always been, but the new bar, made with big chunks of wood Dex must have brought from the junkyard, was already taking shape. The stained relic from thirty years ago was no more.
“You can have both!” Dex’s enthusiasm only rose, to the point where Hammer considered getting a dog just to see Dex smile so widely. A pet would come with a built-in excuse for the prospect to stay with the dog at Hammer’s home. He could then accidentally come back a day too early, slide into bed next to Dex and—
No. Hammer didn’t need to have an excuse to do any of that. Dex could be his without all that bullshit, but he’d made a conscious choice to assess things reasonably instead of getting sucked in by eagerly spread thighs.