Hate Me or Love Me - Ella Miles Page 0,158

here, at the club?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

Mila frowns not understanding my words.

“I think a more appropriate answer when your boss gives you an order would be yes, sir.”

She laughs. “Not happening, Knight.”

I pout, and she laughs harder almost knocking herself off balance on her heels. I stand up and grab her hand, just before she crashes to the floor and I have to take her to the hospital. As much as I enjoyed our first kiss at the hospital, I don’t want to have to go back to the hospital with her anytime soon.

“You sure, Mila? I could make you.”

She stares down at my arm where I’m holding her. “You could, but you won’t. You may be an asshole, but you won’t force me.”

“How do you know?”

She frowns and shakes her head. “I don’t know how I know. I just do.”

I nod, understanding completely.

I take her hand and walk her back out to the world of dangerous men, sex, and money. A world I want her far away from.

I lead her quickly out of the club, and then to my motorcycle that is waiting for us.

“Do you always park your motorcycle illegally?”

“No, it’s the club manager’s job to know when a client wants to leave.”

“I don’t care how expensive this motorcycle is; I’m not getting on it.”

I let go of her hand and collect two helmets and hold one out to her.

“No.” She stubbornly crosses her arms.

I sigh. “The agreement was that you do whatever I tell you to do. Without argument.”

“I don’t think that was the agreement.”

“Read the fine print.”

“There is no fine print. We didn’t sign anything.”

“Exactly. Your job is to do what I say without question or our deal is off. I won’t pay you. I won’t ensure you have a diploma waiting for you in May.” It’s not true. I’ve already donated the money, and she’s already enrolled next semester. She would be re-enrolled this semester if I didn’t need her help first. And I won’t let her starve or live in her car, which is what she’d do without my money.

Mila huffs but then takes a step forward. “I will ride on this motorcycle tonight, but if we are to travel together in the future, I kindly ask you consider a different form of transportation. I’ll even ride the bus.”

“Why? What do you have against motorcycles?”

“They are dangerous.”

I grin. “All the more reason you should ride them.”

She snatches the helmet out of my hands and then straddles the bike behind me. I don’t give her time to grab my waist before I jolt us forward. I love the squeal that escapes her as her hands squeeze around my waist.

I whiz around a corner, and she screams louder. I don’t want to push her too far in one night, so after having a few moments of fun, I slow down.

“Faster,” she whispers in my ear.

My mouth gapes. She can’t be seriously asking me to speed up. So I test her. I rev the engine and step on the gas after the next stoplight.

“That isn’t fast.” She breathes on my neck.

Fuck.

I pick up speed, pushing both of our limits this time as I round another corner.

“Yes, Knight!” she cries out like she just came from the excitement of having black shiny rumbling metal between her legs. Damn, why did I think this was a good idea? Now I want to be between her legs, spreading her, giving her a real reason to be screaming my name.

I zoom through the city, the stars sparkling overhead somehow shining through the fog of the night. I zip between cars, not caring that what I’m doing is illegal and dangerous, as I hug the middle line to speed between two cars. One guy flips me off as I drive by.

I always drive fast, but I haven’t felt this good on my motorcycle. I like teasing women on my bike, but this is different. More than I expected.

We reach our destination too fast, and I slow down, parking it on the side of the road in an actual parking slot this time.

Mila lets go of my waist, and I hear her removing her helmet as I do the same. Then, I turn and stare at her with disbelief.

“What was that?”

“Huh?”

“I thought you said you hated motorcycles.”

“No, I said I shouldn’t ride them because they are dangerous for me.”

“Meaning?”

“I like them too much. The only dangerous things are those that we love. Even if motorcycles weren’t inherently dangerous, it wouldn’t matter, because I love them. Loving

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