Fuck it. “The name is Jean.” I grab my purse from under the counter and I can hear my boss yelling as he sees me leaving.
“Fuck you too, Larry!” I yell. I hate that fucker. He always looked at my ass and smelled like grease.
He grins again at that slight glimpse of my crazy, then grips my hand and leads me out of the store straight to a beautiful bike.
I almost come at the sight of him getting on and straddling the beast. My ovaries are full-on screaming in pure delight.
I am so fucked.
“Get on,” he demands, turning the bike on the ground that’s vibrating under my feet. His arms flex as he revs up the engine.
“Well shit, don’t beg, I’ll get on,” I joke and get on behind him without a second thought.
He laughs and revs the bike again, then reaches back, grabbing my legs and pulling me closer to him.
“Where are we going?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his middle. He grips my leg, pulling me even closer to him.
“To my house, so I can decorate my bed with you.” He winks and takes off without me answering him, getting onto the road that will take us straight out of town.
Sounds like a good idea to me.
We drive and drive before he comes to a stop outside of a beautiful ranch house on the outskirts of Raleigh, Texas. I live three hours from here.
I am certifiably crazy. I don’t know this man nor do I even know his name. I left my car in the parking lot of the gas station and didn’t tell my family where I was going.
But hey, crazy is my middle name. My father is a police officer and he arrested my mother but he didn’t take her to jail. He took her to his house.
Fate is repeating itself, so it’s their fault. On my tombstone it better read “Here lies Jean. Her death is because of her parents’ crazy genes.”
“Nice digs. Where do you plan to bury my remains?” I ask as I slide off of the seat and look around the place. I spot a tree over in the corner of property. I point at it. “That looks like a great place to me.”
He just looks at me like I am utterly ridiculous, but he’s not wrong to think that. I am. He doesn’t respond to me, so I continue to mumble about my death and what will cause it.
Hopefully it’s from amazing sex or something along those lines. I would be fully satisfied to die that way.
“I’m not going to kill you,” he finally answers and unlocks the front door to his house, pushing it open for me to walk inside.
“Ladies first.”
I walk inside, looking around the place. I have to admit it’s beautiful and not much of a bachelor pad. It’s definitely masculine, though, but in a tasteful way.
I set my purse on the counter but take my phone out, slipping it into my back pocket. “Want to order pizza for dinner?” he asks, setting his keys on the counter.
It’s so casual, but I’m not sure how this is supposed to go. “That sounds good to me.” I sit down onto the counter and watch him putter around the room.
Now what?
I have no clothes, I quit my job and I beat up my boyfriend with a huge-ass dildo. There is no coming back from that.
He reaches into the fridge, grabbing some beers. “Let’s go.” He motions towards the back of the house and pulls open the door, and I fall in love.
He has a huge-ass hot tub, an in-ground pool, an enormous fire pit, which is where he is headed, and an outdoor bar area with a pizza oven and grill. It has it all.
He hands me the beer and I sit down beside him, “First off, I’m not going to hurt you. Get that shit out of your head right now.”
I laugh, “Well, that’s good to know.” He shakes his head and takes a long pull of his beer, my eyes moving to his throat, admiring him.
He smiles and shakes his head. “My name is Jackson. I’m a member of the Devil Souls MC.” He really is a bad boy. I knew that the second he strutted into the gas station and told me I was his.
No one else would have the balls to do that.
“So, Jack, you witnessed my mental breakdown first hand.” I scoot farther in the seat and tuck my legs under my body.
He full-on