Four years ago Rebel claimed Ginger to keep them both alive, and then she disappeared. Bike Week at Daytona Beach brings them back together. He’s a dangerous nomad. A ruthless killer. But he’s her addiction, and she’s his. Can they keep the past where it belongs and move forward, or is it too late?
I grabbed Ginger by the hand and pulled her out of the room, down the hall and to the bathroom. Her resistance was futile, her fear unimportant. I knew what I had to do, and if she were smart, she’d realize it, too. If she wanted to live. I opened the bathroom door and yanked her inside, thanking fuck that I found it empty. It was filthy, but better than nothing, and it had a shower that everyone used when they felt the need to be clean, which wasn’t often.
Ginger spun around when I shut the door, the look of a trapped animal in her pretty blues. I ignored her growing terror, steeling myself for what I had to do. Even behind closed doors I had to make it real, had to be convincing that I was an unfeeling bastard. I saw her swallow, could see her tits rising and falling rapidly as the fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. She was expecting the worst, preparing herself to do whatever she had to do to survive.
“Take off your clothes.” I kept my tone harsh, indifferent to her growing panic.
She shook her head vigorously and stepped back, slamming hard against the cracked porcelain sink. A nervous cry escaped her, and her eyes were wild as she took in her surroundings and realized that there was no escape. Her gaze touched on the door behind me before meeting my eyes.
“Take off your fucking clothes,” I said in an uncaring, demanding tone. “You’re filthy, and not in a way that gets my dick hard. Now undress.” I removed my cut and the t-shirt beneath it. “In fact, I think I’ll join you.” Her eyes nearly popped out of her head at that. “If you’re not undressed by the time I’m out of my clothes, you won’t like the consequences.” I kicked off my boots as my hands went to the front of my pants.
As I’d expected she would, Ginger’s small hands began to unbutton her blouse. Slowly she began to expose enticing, creamy skin to my wandering eyes. I undid my pants. She lowered her gaze to the floor and turned around before reluctantly removing the garment. I let her have her moment of modesty before I looked into the mirror in front of her. Fuck. My dick took notice of her perfect tits and rosy nipples. Hard nipples. Surprising.
No cliffhangers! Can be read as a standalone romance.
Warning, contains explicit sex acts, language, and violence. Adults only!
Targeted Age Group: adult
Written by: Tory Richard
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Tory Richards is an Amazon bestselling author who writes smut with a plot. Born in Maine, she’s lived most of her life in Florida where she went to school, married, and raised her daughter. She’s retired from Disney and spends her time with family and friends, traveling, and writing.
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