“Might be too late for that,” interjects Skipper. “He didn’t look too happy when the auctioneer was handing you over to us.”
Carter bypasses that comment. “You should be thanking me. At the end of the day, I saved your life.”
Sure.
Sold from one asshole to another.
I’m indebted.
I take a step back and let the men fight it out. As much as I hate Carter Trescott, Idohave a lot to thank him for. He handed down his genetics to the son he doesn’t know about, and he’s also the reason I’m seeing the light of day again.
And by the light of day, I’m talking about the giant Vegas billboards that illuminate the sky.
Carter goes on looking at me with his hard stare, like he’s trying to get access to my soul.Good luck with that one, buddy.
“Fine.” He steps aside and invites me to hop onto his Harley. “Climb aboard.”
I’m still in two minds about all of this. The bikers still haven’t told me where “home” is. But I trust Carter, even though we’re practically strangers. If he saved me from Conrad, he must have semi-good intentions.
I don’t sit on the handsome man’s motorbike because he’s attractive.
I sit for money.
A fucking crazy amount of money.
Begrudgingly, I wrap my hands around Carter’s waist as he starts up the engine. In an ideal world, I wouldn’t touch him. But I’d also prefernotto fall to my death and leave Otis without a mother.
We fly through the city.
And I wish I was exaggerating.
It feels like we’re about to take off.
With no other option, I hug Carter’s waist and trust that we won’t get in trouble with the cops for exceeding the speed limit.
I didn’t really know what to expect from tonight, but reuniting with my last one-night stand wasnoton the bingo card.
Carter Trescott put me off dating for life. I only jumped into his lap that night because he was hot and I’d had too much to drink. If I was sober, I’d have looked at him, appreciated his face, and walked right past him.
Being this close to him again is dangerous. As much as I hate this man, hedidknow what he was doing in the bedroom, and I haven’t had a decent bedroom experience since.
These days, the only romantic relationship I have is with my vibrator. As long as I keep that baby charged, I get what I want.
Granted, it can’t throw me around the bedroom, spank my ass and call me a bad girl, but itcanmake me finish…sometimes.
If I can get my hands on all of this money, I’ll be able to afford an upgrade.
Before I know it, we’re out of the city and heading for the desert.
“I thought you lived in the city,” I shout in his ear.
I didn’t mean to catch a whiff of his masculine scent.
And I didn’t expect it to heat me up in certain…places.
“I don’t live in the city anymore,” he answers, his gaze fixated on the long road in front of us.
“Where do you live?”
