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  • Home > Chelle Bliss > Men of Inked > Resist Me (Page 21)     
    Resist Me(Men of Inked #5) by Chelle Bliss
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    “This is going to be a long-ass ride.”

    “You make it sound like a bad thing,” he said as he walked to his bike, grabbed the helmet, and held it out to me.

    I approached, ripping it from his grasp. “Three hours on the back of your bike doesn’t sound like a joyride.”

    “You say the word and I’ll pull over and give you something to smile about,” he murmured as he touched my cheek.

    With my free hand, I batted his away from my face and put the helmet on, cinching the straps tight. “In your dreams,” I huffed out, standing next to the sleek Harley V-Rod Muscle bike. I’d spent enough time around boys with their toys to know my Harleys. It wasn’t traditional, but it matched his personality perfectly—strong, sexy, and loud.

    “It’ll be my reality. Just you wait, beautiful.” He climbed on, twisting his body before patting the back seat.

    I stared at the sky, closing my eyes and making a silent plea to put distance between us. Why had I f**ked his brains out the night we met?

    Holding his shoulder, I adjusted myself. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I smashed my tits against his back and smiled. I’d make the ride just as uncomfortable for him as he always made me. I’d invented games.

    Chapter 6 - Unforgettable

    The girl had game and mad f**king skills. I’d never met a female who was as full of shit as I was. Izzy was everything I’d ever wanted in a woman—fierce, strong, driven, and full of attitude.

    Riding with her on the back of my bike for over three hours should’ve been boring and tedious. I was finding out that nothing we did together could be described with those words.

    She’d taken every chance to brush against my dick when we were stopped at a light. Running her hand down my thigh, all in the name of stretching her back. She hadn’t just held me to stay on the bike. She’d felt me up and I f**king knew it.

    As I pulled into her drive, I could feel my semi-hard dick I’d been sporting for the last twenty miles start to stiffen. It wouldn’t happen today. I had shit to do, including a long ride back to Daytona.

    I parked the bike, securing it in place before turning off the engine. Izzy pushed off using my shoulder and plucked the helmet from her head. Leaning over, she shook out her hair, flipping it like a wet dream. She was a f**king tease.

    “Thanks for the ride.” She smirked, holding out the helmet.

    “Can I use the bathroom before I head back?” I asked. I figured I could have a little more fun with her before I walked out of her life for a short time. I knew I’d be back. No one could keep me away from Izzy Gallo.

    She rubbed her face and stared at the ground. “If you must,” she mumbled, bringing her eyes to meet mine.

    In the sunlight, her eyes matched the color of the Gulf on a sunny day. Turquoise with hints of sky blue. They were lush and big for her face. I didn’t speak as I hopped off the bike and stretched.

    She walked away, heading for the door, and I followed behind, admiring her ass. Looking over her shoulder, she glared at me before stopping in front of her door and unlocking it.

    The house sat on a canal, the Gulf of Mexico not far away from the multistory dwelling. The façade was white with muted orange trim, and it stood three stories tall. Following her inside, I took in the beauty of the living room. It was like Izzy—loud and unforgiving and alive with vibrant color. Large windows lined the back of the house as the sun cascaded through the room and shone on the dark wooden floors.

    “Restroom?” I asked, looking around, taking in the layout of her home.

    “Over there,” she replied, motioning to the left with her head.

    I walked away, finding a hallway where she had pointed. I stopped when I passed an open door that held a bedroom. I didn’t think it was hers. It was all white and too plain for her tastes. I continued to the next room and found the Holy Grail.

    This was Izzy’s bedroom. The walls were painted a deep red with black trim. Black curtains hung from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Along the opposite wall was a king-sized bed with black satin bedding. It wasn’t feminine, but totally her.

    “Find it?” Her voice carried down the hallway, forcing me back into the hall.

    “Yeah!” I yelled, and moved toward the last door on the right.

    After I was done, I didn’t bother looking around before I headed back to find Izzy. She was standing in the kitchen, moving with ease, a coffee pot in hand.

    “Want a cup before you head out?”

    Look at Betty f**kin’ Crocker. “Sure,” I said, my voice uncertain.

    “It’s the least I can do. I need you to make it back to my brother safely.”

    “Well, I’m kind of hungry too.” I smiled, taking a seat at her breakfast bar.

    “I don’t cook, and you’re pushing it.”

    “I’ll grab something at the gas station down the street,” I responded, propping my chin on my hand and staring at her.

    She blanched. “I have some leftovers from my mom’s place.” She opened the fridge and bent over to look through the contents.

    It was a perfect ass shot. I grinned, watching her move.

    “How about some pasta?” she asked with her head still stuck inside.

    “Perfect.” I leaned back, looking away before she turned around. I wouldn’t f**k with pasta from Mrs. Gallo. Thomas always raved about it.

    She pulled off the plastic wrap and splashed a bit of water on the plate before sticking it in the microwave. “Is my brother really okay, James?” she asked with her back to me.

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