Read Online Trick by Lori Garrett - Free Book Online Page B

wishing for a new toy. I used to lay in bed, waiting for it so I could sneak out and spend the night with Gunner. And it’s there. The familiar growl of Gunner’s motorcycle. I’d recognize it anywhere.
    I don’t hesitate. I bolt for the front door, leaving Daisy’s half-made drink on the counter. She’ll thank me later, though, I bet she even ends up having a little fun with Clay. Dad will surely be furious when he realizes I’m gone. But as much as he said he was going to stay away, Gunner is here. And that’s what matters right now.

CHAPTER 6
    GUNNER

    I just planned on driving by. I was useless at work anyhow, so what harm could just passing by do? I had to make sure stalker-ass Rochelle wasn’t here. I didn’t plan on being seen. But fuck me, Harlow is running down the drive toward me and what the hell am I supposed to do? Bolt? That’s even too dick for me. Tell her I made a wrong turn? That’s too stupid to believe.
    No, I’ve got no other choice but to suck it up and tell her the truth. Maybe not the part about how my body has ached to be back inside of her all day, but the part about how Rochelle is on a rampage I don’t think she’ll quit anytime soon—unless I put a ring on that finger of hers.
    It would solve the problem. Both female-based problems in my life right now. It’d get Rochelle off my back, and force Harlow to accept once and for all that she’s too damn good for me. Always has been.
    “Gunner. What are you doing here?” Harlow pants. I know she’s been running, but her being out of breath reminds me of last night when she panted my name with each thrust of my dick inside of her.
    “I need to talk to you. Can we go somewhere?” This is a fucking bad idea, but I’m not hanging around here to wait for her mean-as-shit father to come out and throw me off of his land with a shotgun pointed between my eyes. Or at my balls.
    Her eyes move from my beat up bike to her white, lacey dress. She was probably enjoying a nice dinner with her dad and his friends based on the line of Mercedes and Audis in the driveway. She isn’t exactly dressed for any place I’d take her.
    “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she answers, sliding onto the back of my bike without hesitation and wrapping her tan arms around my waist. “Let’s go.”
    I kick start my bike and speed away from the Mills’ grand estate. I met Mr. Mills a couple of times over the years. When Harlow and I were sneaking around together, he found us in their greenhouse. Luckily, we’d just tugged most of our clothes back on, otherwise that would have been a sight for the old man. He figured I was just some worker on his grounds trying to mess with his daughter. He cursed and yelled and told me to leave and never come back.
    I bumped into him again after Harlow and I had split up, at the bank. I’d just come from closing on my bar and was dressed in my only suit. He struck up a conversation with me as we waited in the long line, not remembering how he’d thrown me out of his palace a year before. I wanted to tell him who I was. Remind him how he told me I was a good-for-nothing son-of-a-bitch, and that I’d never lay a hand on his daughter. I wanted to tell him about all of the zeros in my bank account, and that if I wanted to, I could be dick deep in his daughter right now. But I didn’t. I just talked a good talk and politely walked away when it was my turn at the counter.
    I don’t know if that makes me a coward, or a better man.
    He came into Tricks once, and I poured him a bourbon after bourbon and listened to him talk about his wife, Harlow’s mom, who had passed away years before, and how he was wasting time on this younger gal now even though he didn’t love her. That sometimes, things just make sense, so you do them.
    That’s sort of why I’ve hung with Rochelle so long. She isn’t the love of my life, never will be. I think she even knows and accepts that. But we make sense. We both come from tough