“What for? They won’t fit you.” I blink as he transfers my chargers from my bag to his. My electronics—oh shit. I lurch forward. “I’ll do the rest.”
I catch the edge of the bag, and it jerks to the side. As if in slow motion, the contents spill onto the concrete in a tumble of fabric and...
A wide wicked grin splits his face as he picks up my bright pink vibrator. “Planning on some fun alone time?”
Why is it more embarrassing that he’s holding it than it was talking about it with a bunch of strangers in first class?
“A lady should never travel without her favorite toy.”
“This is your favorite?” He glances back at the toy, surprise and intrigue morphing his face. “Why?”
“Are you kidding me right now? We need to put miles between us and this city.”
He tilts his head as I kneel to pick up the other items from the ground. His gaze darkens, and I roll my eyes.Not happening in a million fucking years, buddy.
“Tell me why it’s your favorite, and I’ll drop it.”
I dart my hand out to grab it, but he’s faster and taller. And now he’s waving my vibrator around in the air like he’s hailing a cab. Fuck my life.
“Speed? Strength? Outside? Inside?” He winks like this is a secret between the two of us. It might be if he wasn’t hailing the heavens with a sex toy. “Tell me, Ghost, what about this particular toy makes it worthy of its crown?”
A young couple stare wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the bright pink silicone before hopping into an Uber.
“You are insufferable,” I grit out.
He tilts his head and licks his lips. His very full lips. Soft, welcoming lips that look like they could do a million and one things to my body and make it sing. But I’ve learned from experience that fantasy isalwaysbetter than reality. Hunter doesn’t realize it, but he’s better off living in my imagination. That way, he can’t disappoint me.
I huff. “Speed setting two. Start on the clit, then finish inside. That toy can make me come in under five minutes, making it my favorite.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?”
“There’s something to be said for the surety of getting off in under five minutes with a tried and tested method, but you are one hundred percent missing out.” He tucks the toy in the box and closes it before leaning down to stare into my eyes. I fight the urge to take a step back from the raw heat burning in his gaze. Carnal. That’s the look he’s wearing. And it’s directed at me.
“I’ll survive,” I whisper as I swallow.
His eyes drop to my throat. “Surviving isn’t living, Ghost. Perhaps if you stopped running from everyone and everythingyou think might be capable of getting under that thick skin of yours, you might be surprised.”
“People never surprise me, Hunter. They only disappoint.”
“You don’t give them the chance.” He hands me a helmet. “Let’s go. We have miles to eat and a flight to catch.”
Ihave a flight to Chicago. Notwe. This is a path I have to walk alone.
Chapter Twelve
Eleanor
Squats don’t have shit on a motorcycle.
Pain. It’s a concept I struggle with due to my abnormally high threshold, often to the detriment of my health. I even broke my nose once without realizing it. I’m not the kind of girl that skips leg day, but right now, I have aches in places I’ve never experienced before. Hours of having my legs wrapped around a man on the back of a bike has my thighs seizing. The painkillers I picked up at the airport aren’t helping, which is why I am restless as I lay my seat back on the plane. Hunter arches a brow from his seat next to me. Color me surprised when he didn’t bat an eyelid at paying for first-class fare. I thought I would have had at least the flight to devise a plan to elude him, but being part of an MC is clearly more lucrative than I assumed. I add researching that to my list, right after I wipe any trail of my past from my apartment.
Then, I need to shake my Hunter-shaped shadow. I curl on my side and grimace at the sting between my legs. Who knew riding a motorcycle for hours would chafe the sensitive fleshbetween your legs? Now I understand, not just from a road rash perspective, why riders wear protective gear. Hunter’s gaze snaps to me. “You still sore?”
“What do you think, asshole?”
His lips twitch. “I could massage your?—”
