Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Her gorgeous smile was contagious, and I would do anything to see it again and again.
“If it makes you feel better, I’m impressed by your skills.”
I knew what she meant. They had nothing to do with eating pancakes. And she wasn’t wrong, I’d spent hours pleasuring her body last night, making her come time and time again for no reason other than the fact that the sounds she made kept my dick painfully hard.
“It doesn’t.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Well, I also find it incredibly sexy the way you put away an entire stack of pancakes, and that sheen of bacon grease making your lips shiny? It’s making me think of other parts of last night.”
Vanessa’s face turned a bright shade of pink as she leaned in. “You mean when I tied you to the bed and sucked you until you begged me to stop?”
Fuck yeah. “Well, I wouldn’t say I begged. More like asked, passionately.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Semantics, but I’ll allow it.” The look she laid on me was filled with more than lust; it was affection. It was genuine emotion, and I knew I was a lucky son of a bitch that she somehow managed to forgive me. “Don’t go there, Emmett. Not again.”
I blinked. “What did I do?”
“That look right there.” She aimed one long finger in my direction.
“You’re thinking about what a dick you were for keeping the Fiona news from me. Right?” I nodded.
“Guilty as charged.”
“Well stop it, dammit. I was mad and yeah, I’m still trying to get over it completely, but that can’t happen if you keep having bouts of guilt when you look at me.”
She wiped her mouth one last time and stood, laying several bills on the leatherbound book our waitress left behind, arching her brow as if to dare me to say something about her paying the bill.
I wanted to say something, but if a week without her and letting her buy me breakfast was my punishment, I’d fucking take it like a champ. I caught up to her in the parking lot and grabbed her hand, clasping it with mine.
“It’s not guilt,” I whispered in her ear and pressed against her body, gently trapping her against the car. “I was just thinking what a lucky fucking bastard I am that you forgave me. That I get to do this to you again.”
Our lips came together quickly, soft but urgent at first, but as the heat grew, her leg inched up my hip, and I pressed my cock right to the center of her, pulling a low moan from deep inside of her.
“Emmett.” My name came out on a growled whisper and those big blue eyes met mine with a sleepy smile. “We’re in public. The whole restaurant can see us.”
She was right and I didn’t give a damn. “They’re just jealous that I get to kiss you like this.” I kissed her again because the taste of Vanessa mixed with syrup and warm butter was giving me—and my cock—all kinds of ideas. “That gave me a thought. Syrup and butter, all over your body.”
She laughed and shook her head before giving me a gentle shove.
“Damn you, I like the sound of that. A lot.”
“Next stop, grocery store?”
She laughed and pulled open the passenger door. “Get inside and I’ll tell you where we’re going next.” There was a gleam in her eyes that held a dirty promise I would hold her to when we got to wherever we were headed next.
I slid behind the wheel and started the engine, saying, “It turns me on when you’re bossy like this, just so you know.”
“Good to know.” The corners of her mouth tipped up into a teasing grin a moment before a familiar sound ripped through the air. A deafening pop. And then another.
And another.
“Get down!” I reached across the car and shoved Vanessa toward the floor. “Stay down!”
I shouted the words and swung out of the parking spot, taking off out of the lot as fast Vanessa’s car would allow, trying hard to put as much distance as I could between Vanessa and the shooter.
“Wh-what’s happening, Emmett?”
I looked in the rearview mirror and saw two motorcycles behind us. “Not sure yet, but we have company.”
“Who?”
“Don’t know yet, babe. Just stay down there,” I spoke through clenched teeth, cutting down side streets in an attempt to lose the bikers.
“Shit!” Bikers. Of course this was the moment Agent Beck’s warning came back to me. “Black Jacks.”
Vanessa scoffed through her fear. “Black Jacks?”
The side streets turned into a two-lane highway and we picked up two more visitors.
“Grab my phone and call Terry. Tell him what’s going on and where we are.”
She nodded and took the phone with shaky hands. I hated the fear I heard in her voice, but I understood it. “Don’t worry, Nessa, I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get out of this alive. Tell Terry there are four bikers.”