UnWreck Me (Savage Beast MC Book 7) by Hayley Faiman (top e book reader .TXT) 📗

way I’ll be able to stay for any extended period of time. Not only will I need to work, a girl cannot live in three measly outfits, a pair of boots, and one pair of sandals. Plus, I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to get any of my Botox or fillers in Eagar, then there’s my extensions and eyelash extension fills, not to mention my nails and my facial peels.

I’m so fucked.

Panic fills me at the idea of what I’m going to look like without my monthly maintenance. I mean, I stopped restricting my food and working out all day long and I’ve gained a gross amount of weight. Turning my head, I lift my hand and touch my face, my eyes wide.

“I don’t even want to know what’s going on in that crazy fuckin’ head of yours, honey.”

Shifting my gaze, I look over at him. “You don’t have any day spas or salons in Eagar,” I state.

He dips his chin. “Wouldn’t know, but doubt it, baby.”

“I’m going to get really ugly really quickly, Hawk.”

His eyes widen and he leans forward. “Your face gonna mutate?”

“Maybe,” I breathe. “I don’t know, I have had a regular Botox fill, and facial peel appointments, not to mention a dozen other things for years. I don’t even know what my face would look like if I stopped.”

Without a word, his head falls backward and he lets out a bark of laughter. It’s not just a bark, it’s a full-on belly laugh and his entire body shakes as he attempts to control himself, although he doesn’t attempt all that hard.

“Pack your goddamn shit, Avah.”

“Fuck off, Hawk,” I grind out.

His laughter dies immediately and he narrows his gaze on me. He leans forward and he growls in my face. He fucking growls in my face like the goddamn animal that he is. I open my mouth to tell him to back the fuck up, turn around, and go home, but he speaks before I can get my words together.

“You’re goddamn beautiful, I venture to guess you were before you put all that plastic shit in your body, too. Doesn’t matter either way, you’re a goddamn knockout. You look better with the weight, even better with the weight and no makeup on your face.

“You look best when you’re coming on my cock, but I ain’t picky. You’re thirty years younger than me, Avah, you’ll always be young and beautiful, especially standing next to my old ass. Now pack your fuckin’ shit, gorgeous, and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

My lips part and I gasp at his words, but at the same time, I have to press my thighs together because damn him, that was a hot as shit speech. With a shiver, I turn my back to him and finish packing my shit.

I make sure to add my jewelry and whatever cash I have just in case something happens or the senator sends some dickheads to ransack my place.

Putting my backpack on my shoulders, I spin around and put my fist on my hip. “My shit is packed, asshole.”

He snorts. “Obliged.”

Without a word, he turns to me, and I am forced to follow behind him. Once we’re in the hallway, I lock the door, then reach for his arm. Hawk turns around, tipping his head down to look into my eyes.

“Why don’t I pack a bigger bag and just follow you in my car?” I ask, the thought just entering my head, now that my mind isn’t jumbled by his kisses, his arguing, and his dick.

His lips twitch and he leans in close to my face. “You’re on the back of my bike, honey.”

As though that explanation is enough, he turns around and stomps down the hall to Keaston’s place. He lifts his hand, making a fist and bangs on the door a couple of times. On the second knock, it swings open as if he’d been waiting for us, or namely me to come knocking.

“Pack a bag, you’re coming to Arizona,” Hawk growls.

Keaston’s eyes widen and his gaze flicks to me from over Hawk’s shoulder. “What?” he asks.

In caveman talk, Hawk explains the situation, and even though it wouldn’t be enough for me to follow his demands, it must be for Keaston. Twenty minutes later, he’s on his bike, I’m on the back of Hawk’s and we’re on the road heading to a hotel outside of the city.

Chapter Twelve

AVAH

Last night was weird, Keaston stayed in the hotel room next to ours, though it wasn’t so much a hotel as it was a motel. I tried not to be ungrateful or complain out loud, but inside I was bitching about every little thing.

Today it’s hot, we’ve been riding for hours in the middle of nowhere. There is sweat dripping in, out, and around all of my two thousand body parts. The sun is starting to go down, and there isn’t a hotel, motel, or anything in sight and I don’t think we’re close enough to Eagar to stop.

“Hawk,” I shout.

He jerks his chin, lifts his hand to give some kind of signal and pulls over to the side of the road. Without even looking back at me, he asks me what. The way he shouts it, I know he’s impatient. Possibly because I’ve made him stop about ten times to get water, sunscreen, and use the bathroom.

“Are we stopping at a hotel tonight or are we going to be in Eagar soon?” I ask.

“No,” he says.

His single-word answer causes my lips to turn down into a frown. Climbing off of the bike, I walk around to look at him. He’s smirking up at me and I know he’s fucking with me or he’s about to. Whatever it is, I narrow my eyes on him because I have a feeling that I’m not going to like it, not even a little bit.

“What do you mean, no?”

His brow raises as his lips continue to smirk in amusement. “We won’t make it to Eagar because you