Page 57 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
Getting clit-teased, cockblocked, and complimented by his mum in the same hour.
And honestly?
Ten out of ten. No notes.
Current status: Sitting in my apartment trying to focus on anything except the promise in Jake’s eyes when he left. Also attempting to convince myself that checking my phone every thirty seconds won’t make his text arrive any faster.
UPDATE (9:46 p.m.): Every motorcycle sound makes my heart race.
UPDATE (10:15 p.m.): Just stress-organised my entire closet by colour. Found three identical black tank tops I’d forgotten I owned. Still no text.
P.S. To the delivery guy who just roared past on his motorcycle: you got my hopes up, mate. Not cool.
P.P.S. Is it possible to wear out a phone screen from checking it too much? Asking for science. No, really.
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Share: Only if you want the Wine Club’s late-night surveillance team to start a betting pool on what time Jake returns
WHEN PROMISES COME TRUE (OR: HOW JAKE KEPT HIS WORD)
Posted by Anonymous at 3:31 a.m.
April 1
The sound of Jake’s Harley just after eleven was like thunder in my veins. I’d spent the last couple of hours alternating between pretending to work and pacing, my skin humming with anticipation. My attempts at debugging consisted mainly of staring at my screen while remembering how his fingers felt, how his mouth . . .
Me
HE’S HERE
Megan
Try not to die.
Me
NO PROMISES
Me
MY HEART IS ALREADY FAILING
Megan
Text me if you survive.
Me
IF I DON’T, TOSS MY VIBRATORS IN THE RIVER. NO ONE CAN KNOW HOW MANY I OWN.
The knock on my door had my pulse racing because it knew what kind of biker sin was waiting on the other side. Jake stood in the doorway with a look in his eyes that made me want to lose all control.
His gaze raked over me, taking in the black silk slip nightie I’d changed into. And yes, that was after trying on every piece of lingerie I owned.
There was a slow-burn storm in his eyes that promised I’d be begging soon.
“Mum’s settled,” he said. I was listening but also preoccupied with those muscles of his that his shirt did little to hide. “Got her comfortable, made sure she ate.”
