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*LOL. You’re welcome!*
Shaking my head, I pocket my cell. I coax Opal with a nod of my head. “Come on, baby.”
Opal climbs on, wraps her arms around me, and leans her cheek between my shoulder blades. She fits perfectly, like a key in a lock.
Enough with the gushy poetics.I need to get this woman alone before I unload in my jeans.
I rev my hog’s engine and cruise us out of the city.
CHAPTERSIX
GAUGE
Twenty minutes later, we arrive at the hotel. It’s a kooky place where all the rooms have a different theme. Anytime we pass through Salt Lake City or have a job in the area, we crash here for shit, kicks, and giggles. The last time we were here, Atlas and I stayed in the bear’s den. It was decorated like an actual fucking cave with stalagmites and stalactites a plenty. I imagine the honeymoon suite is as tacky.
Opal bites her bottom lip as we check-in at the front desk to get our room key. I take her dainty hand in mine, massaging comforting circles on the back of her hand. Poor thing is shaking like a leaf. I need to put her nerves at ease. I may be a wolf, but I don’t bite…
Okay, I redact the last statement—I don’t bite hard.
“Opal, you’ve been through a lot tonight. I won’t lie—I’m aching to have some alone time with you. But there’s no pressure. If you want a separate room, I’ll understand.”
“No,” she says all too quickly. She peeks up at me through her long lashes. “I—I don’t want to be alone and…I would like to get to know you too.”
She’s so saccharine-sweet she’ll probably melt as soon as I get her wet between her thighs.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out Opal has limited sexual experience—the woman practically glows with purity like a goddamn halo. Even when she was swinging around the pole at the strip club, you could see she handled it conservatively.
No matter. I’m a patient man. I’m more than willing to go slow with Opal, experiment to see what gets her off. My eyes roam over her body hungrily, taking in every line, curve, and valley.
Oh, Idefinitelywant to experiment with her. Make her purr before she screams my name. Get lost with her luscious body wrapped around me.
Opal catches me eye-fucking her and blushes redder than the red of our MC colors. With her hand still in mine, I guide us to our room. I unlock the door and flip the switch.
Opal freezes in the doorway like a deer in headlights. “Um, Gauge?”
I hang my head. Those rat bastards did this on purpose.
Our room looks like something out of a cheesy Las Vegas 1970s romance movie. It’s red from floor to ceiling and decorated with hearts. The mirrors on the wall are hearts. The whirlpool tub is a heart. Even the giant-ass bed is a heart.
To add insult to injury, rose petals pepper the room like confetti. Champagne and flutes are out on the nightstand.
But the pièce de résistance is the assortment of riding crops, bats, and whips spread out like a fan across the ugly ass bed. All things I’d be willing to try, but I’m betting Opal wouldn’t.
Where in the hell did these asswipes find time to gather all this crap? It seems when motivated, the crew will go to great lengths to fuck up my shit.
Usually, I can take a bit of ribbing from the guys. But this time, the crew’s antics don’t bode well for me because Opal is already too spooked. Nothing screams, “Run for the hills,” like presenting a love dungeon to a woman who was roughed up only an hour ago. There’s not a chance in hell of getting her to relax tonight.
Fucking cockblockers!
My phone pings with a text from Punk.*How’s the ‘red room of pain,’ VP?*
“Punk,” I mutter. I angrily thumb jab a text.*You little cocksucker. I know you doctored the room.*
*I suggest the leather riding crop as a starter and work up to the whip.*
Ugh! *You better be on the road by the time I wake up.*
*Ha! You’re going to bed, old man? Can’t keep up with the young babe? And your shriveled ass couldn’t catch me if I gave you a head start. Have fun sleeping next to the lovely Opal.*
