Page 45 of Biker's Property
Once I have my shirt off, there’s nothing between him and my breasts.
“Now those are some tits,”he says.
His crude languagesends a flush of heat through me.
“They’re small,”I mutter, not like I’m that self-conscious about them, but I don’t need him to pretend to like them if he doesn’t. I’ve read books and watched enough TV to know that men like jugs. Smaller than average boobs don’t get guys excited.
Ryder laughs and brushes my nipples with his thumb, sending a distracting chill through me.
“Small. Cute. I bet I could fit a whole one in my mouth.”
I give him a serious look. “Don’t. You don’t have to act like a nice guy.”
This makeshim laugh again in a way that reminds me how much he smells like a bomb went off in a liquor cabinet.
“I’m not acting like anything but myself,” he says. “But if you want me to turn up the heat… I can.”
His hands squeeze around my forearm and Ryder’s pupils get so wide they cover all the colors in his irises. I know I shouldn’t stare directly into his eyes like that but… I can’t help it. They’re wide. Black. Terrifying.
“Trust me, church girl… there are some dirty fucking things I want to do to you.”
The firm grasp he has on my wrists confirms just how serious he is about his intentions.
“Like what?”I ask him, not sure why I’m maintaining steady eye contact with a man this crazy when I should be pulling away from him and begging him not to lay a hand on me.
“That’s not how this works,”he says. “You said it yourself, sweetheart… we’re not married. Before I put my dick in your tight little pussy… we’re gonna change that.”
He’s serious.There isn’t a single flinch or flicker of uncertainty in him.He’s insane.Ryder’s black eyes fix on mine as he holds me in place, awaiting my response to his crazy proposal.
Chapter Twenty-One
CASH
Oske sticks her head out the door of the trailer. Her high, Indian cheekbones are a raw, red color from spending too much time in the sun.
“I’m not letting your white ass in this trailer until you pay up,” she says, practically spitting on me over her $1,400.
“Ever considered your girl left your ass because of your attitude?”
“MONEY!” Oske yells at me, some of her spit landing on my three day old beard. I glare at her and wipe it off before reaching into my back pocket. Southpaw had better compensate my ass for having to deal with this wolverine of a woman. I’ve met softer cacti. She snatches it and presses it to her nose, calming down only slightly as she thumbs through hundreds.
“All there,” I tell her. Oske looks up at me without the slightest hint of fear.
“Ruger has her locked in my bedroom. He’s drunk on the couch.”
“Where do you sleep?”
“Outside,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m not falling asleep in the same room as Ruger Blackwood.”
There’s genuine fear in that last sentence and considering Oske doesn’t give a shit about anything, I notice that fear. I grab her forearm, yanking her out of the trailer and shutting the door. She hits me several times until I let go of her forearm.
“Grab me like that again and you won’t have to worry about having more bastards.”
“Excuse me?”
“I heard you fucked around and had a baby,” she says, getting all puffed up when she notices my slight reaction. “What? I’m allowed to listen to conversations in my own house.”
I roll my eyes. Confidently wrong. Typical. I’m not here to set the record straight. I need to find out how quickly I can get this fucking job done so I can get Quin back from Juliette’s. I’m sure it won’t take more than three days around Juliette for them to get into trouble.