Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Meiling — All I’ve ever known is pain. My life has been far from a fairy tale. No parents. No friends. Just an endless nightmare that I can’t wake from. Until the day a man offered me his hand and promised to keep me safe. I’ve never trusted anyone before, but there’s something about him. Maybe it’s insane, but I know he won’t hurt me, and when he puts his arms around me, for the first time in my life I feel loved.
Dingo — I’ve always had a soft spot for women and kids in trouble. One look at Meiling, and I knew I had to protect her at any cost. The beautiful girl with the wounded soul. After all she’s suffered, all I want is to make her smile, make her feel secure, and give her a chance to find happiness. But first, I need to take out the men and women responsible for hurting her. It might get ugly, and messy, but they don’t call me Dingo for nothing. I’m a crazy bastard, and I won’t stop until she’s safe. I just didn’t count on falling for her along the way.
Publishers warning: Meiling’s past isn’t pretty. Dingo and Meiling’s story deals with issues of human trafficking, bureaucratic corruption, and vigilante justice. This book contains darker themes that may trigger some readers.
I slipped Dingo’s shirt over my head, smoothing it as it fell to my knees. Even though I didn’t have on panties underneath, it was still the most covered I’d been for as long as I could remember. I didn’t see a hamper so I tossed the towels over the top of the shower so they would dry, then cautiously opened the bathroom door. I could hear the TV going and saw a pair of booted feet propped on the coffee table, even though I couldn’t see the rest of him. Scurrying into my room, I shut the door, then stared in amazement.
Sacks. Lots of sacks. They were just from one of those twenty-four-hour stores, but as I peeked into each one, I saw clothes, shoes, and other things that had to be for me. They were all in my size, and Dingo hadn’t mentioned his sister would be visiting. Since they were in the room he’d said I could use, it had to mean they were mine, right? Tears gathered in my eyes. I ripped into the package of panties and slipped on a pair, loving the way they actually covered my ass. The only two pair I owned were thongs and I hated them. The bras were a soft material that wasn’t the least bit transparent, and the clothes…
A sob built in my throat, but I tried so hard to hold it in. Jeans, modest-looking shirts, and shoes that were made for comfort and not to entice men. I lost the battle and tears streaked my cheeks as I cried so hard my throat and chest hurt. Booted steps came running toward the room, and Dingo must have slid to a stop just outside. He didn’t barge in, at least not right away. As my cries grew louder, he pushed the door open and rushed inside.
“Mei? Honey, what’s wrong?” He dropped to his knees next to me.
“I-I-I…” I couldn’t even tell him why I was crying. I just gestured to the bags, then threw my arms around him and held on.
Dingo held me, letting me soak his shirt with my tears, and he gently rubbed my back. Eventually, I got myself under control and took a few shuddering breaths. He rested his cheek on the top of my head, just holding me. Not once did his hands try to roam somewhere inappropriate. Beau was the last person to hold me like this, and I’d only been fourteen. I hadn’t realized until now just how much I missed it. My foster dad’s version of affection was vastly different.
“When’s the last time someone bought something for you?” he asked.
“My foster parents gave me only what they were required to purchase, and the clothes were never like this. No one’s ever been this nice to me.”
“They aren’t much, Mei, but I wanted to make sure you had enough clothes to get by for at least a few days. You’re welcome to use the washer and dryer off the kitchen whenever you need to, and we can always get a few more outfits.”
I fisted his shirt and lifted my head. The concern in his eyes, the gentle way he held me, it was all overwhelming. Men had taken what they wanted from me ever since I’d hit puberty. Not once had I ever kissed someone just because I wanted to, but right now, this very moment, I wanted to kiss Dingo. Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed my lips to his. He tensed and drew back, his gaze searching.
“Mei, you don’t have to do that.”
“I know,” I said. “I did it because I wanted to.”
There was a moment of hesitation in the way he held himself, the look in his eyes, and then he leaned toward me. This time he kissed me. Dingo threaded his fingers into my hair and held me as his mouth devoured mine. I melted against him, feeling desired for the first time in my life. Cherished. Men had wanted me before, but they’d wanted to take not give.
Dingo broke the kiss with a groan and pulled away.
ABOUT HARLEY WYLDE
Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley‘s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
Rain — The gangs of the underground can be brutal. I know this well and have the scars to prove it. So when a team of rough-looking men start nosing around the slums of Rockwell, I make it my business to know what they’re up to. One in particular catches my eye. He’s rough and scary looking, but his touch is gentle when it needs to be. He’s older and more experienced in every way than me, but I’m still drawn to him. I’m not sure why, but I want him. And when I let him take me, I’ll savor the experience until it’s time to go.
Arkham — The little pixie warrior is a conundrum if ever there was one. She’s strong and capable but scarred inside and out. I can’t fix what’s broken inside her, but I can share her burdens and make her part of my circle. I’ll take her with me, with Bones MC. She’ll be protected there.
But who’s gonna protect her from me?
**WARNING** Bones is a rough MC. They can be violent, but they’re protective to a fault. The men love sex and the women don’t shy away from it. If you think you can handle their brand of loving… read on!
“What the fuck are we still doin’ here? We cleared this sector yesterday.” Arkham wasn’t usually one to complain, but this micromanaging shit was for the birds.
“You pay, we come play.” Torpedo was the top man in the field on this mission. He and Arkham took point as they walked down the street. They weren’t in Afghanistan or Tripoli, or Ukraine. They were in a moderately sized city in the good ole U. S. of A. called Rockwell. ExFil had been hired by a group of disgustingly rich hero wannabes to help locate a runaway. Kid had been missing for three days, and his mother, who was a member of the staff of said disgustingly rich hero wannabes, was more than frantic. They insisted the child was in this area of the city. How they knew that he didn’t know, but orders were orders.
“How the fuck do these guys know that kid’s in this part of town?” Goose had been vocal about his protests from the get-go. All of it because of the micromanaging. “We’ve searched high and low. The kid ain’t here.”
“It’s not like we’ve got anything else to do. We’re gettin’ paid by the hour. They want us to look here, we look here.” Shadow was the newest patched member of Bones and probably the most levelheaded and calm person Arkham knew. “We just flex some muscle if we see anything suspicious and be ready to bean someone if they need it.”
“Yeah. Way wide latitude,” Arkham grumbled. “I don’t like this.”
“Cain knows these guys personally,” Torpedo said. “If he says go, we go. We follow orders.”
“Ain’t never been good at following orders.” The back of Arkham’s neck was tingling like a son of a bitch. Never a good sign. “’Specially not from no pretty-boy, badass wannabe.”
“My understanding,” Torpedo explained, “is that these guys are the real deal. Seems Cain served briefly with Azriel Ivanovich. He’s part owner of Argent Tech.”
“The company that makes all those pretty gadgets Data is always forcing us to use? I hate the bastard already.” Arkham wasn’t opposed to technology per se, he just hated being forced into it. “Most of that shit is just used to dumb down the real work. I mean, I can fuckin’ shoot straight and follow a compass. And I don’t need a fuckin’ leash shoved up my ass in the form of one of those fancy GPS things he hardwired into our radios and phones. Hell, even our fuckin’ bikes are tracked. Where’s the end?”
“You’ll have to take that up with Data and Cain.” Torpedo shrugged, his body posture letting Arkham know Torpedo was just as vigilant as he was, even while carrying on the conversation. “I just make sure you use it.”
“Next thing you know he’ll be wantin’ to tag us with some kind of chip under our skin.”
“It’s already being discussed.”
Arkham stopped dead in his tracks. “I will bust a motherfucker up.”
Torpedo looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Gotcha.”
Everyone laughed.
“Motherfucker.”
Though he continued the disgruntled conversation, Arkham was only half paying attention to his brothers. Their actual mission was extremely vague. All they seemed to do was patrol the poorest section of the city and give people mean looks. They’d questioned every single person they saw, but no one had seen the boy. Arkham had no idea if he believed any of them or not.
The streets were mostly dark at night. Though the streetlights were replaced almost daily, by the end of the day they’d all be broken out again. Drug deals routinely went down in rundown buildings in the process of being renovated, though the team from ExFil had stopped some of it during their search. Drug sales continued regardless. Arkham thought Bones more suited to this than ExFil, but their employer had insisted on the paramilitary version. While Bones was the rough and ready MC, ExFil was the more disciplined and civilian accepted military-like organization run by Cain. This city needed the military, not the outlaws. Conditions had seemed to improve somewhat, but there was still a long way to go. Oh, well. Not his turf. Not his problem.
“How the fuck did a place like Argent Tech end up in this shit hole? It’s no bigger than Somerset and has way less to offer. Not to mention at least a third of the city is nothing more than slums. These people certainly don’t benefit from the tech giant.” Shadow had that part right.
“I agree, brother,” Arkham said. “Not sure what our goal here is, but it seems like more of a policing effort than searching for a missing kid. I’m ready to tell ‘em all to shove it up their ass.”
“The point is for us to give Ivanovich and his associates the help they need in locatin’ a missin’ child. And they are tryin’ to better the place.”
“You’re just trying to defend Cain’s decision to take this job, Torpedo,” Arkham groused. “You don’t like it any more than we do. If they’d let us do this our way, we might have found the kid already. That’s what’s pissin’ me off.”
“Ain’t sayin’ you’re right. Ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong. But if you don’t shut the fuck up about it, I will turn Suzie on your ass so quick it will make your head spin. Stunner might have let her use most of the red and green glitter on him, but I know where there’s a whole fuckin’ tub of pink glitter, and I’ll point her in the right direction.”
That got a laugh from everyone. Evan Arkham snorted. “Harsh, brother,” he grumbled.
They passed the next hour in silence. Still, that tingle between Arkham’s shoulder blades persisted. They were being watched. Had been since they’d gotten off the Goddamned plane. “When I find that son of a bitch, Imma throw him a beatin’.”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” Goose had turned and was facing away from them now, guarding their six as they slowed their trek down the sidewalk.
“Someone’s been watchin’ us since the second we got off the fuckin’ plane.” Arkham tried to watch his area, but he knew the threat was from above. Now that he’d mentioned it, he gave up all pretense of pretending not to be actively seeking their stalker. He raised his gun to the rooftops, putting his infrared goggles in place. Everyone followed his lead.
“I thought I was just being paranoid,” Goose muttered.
“No.” Arkham had learned long ago to listen when that sensation was trying to tell him something.
Just as they rounded the corner, Arkham spotted him. “Got the bastard,” he muttered. “Two o’clock, theater roof. He’s got a rifle scope, but I can’t confirm a weapon.”
“Copy that,” Torpedo said. “Shadow, you and Arkham fall back. See if you can go up the back way and get him from behind. We’ll patrol the alley to the west. If he follows us, should be easy pickin’s for you guys.”
“Radios on,” Arkham ordered. “I’m not losing anyone to a rookie mistake.”
“Got it,” Shadow and Goose confirmed on top of each other.
“Up the east side. And don’t kill him unless he deserves it.”
“He already deserves it for giving me a headache, “Arkham said, readying his rifle.
“Bastard has it coming.” Torpedo didn’t argue. Arkham was a hard ass, but he wouldn’t make a kill unless it was warranted. They all knew it and didn’t insult him by suggesting otherwise.
Shadow was the best partner he could have for a situation like this. The man’s special talent was disappearing into the shadows. Hence his name. Arkham was good, but he let Shadow take the lead on this one. If Arkham was spotted, Shadow would already be in position to defend him. It hurt to admit the big man was better than Arkham at anything, but truth hurts sometimes. Only meant Arkham would be working on that particular skill set even harder.
It took them seven minutes to gain the roof and another one to lay eyes on the target. He was slender, small. A boy? Arkham stayed put for several minutes. Shadow followed his lead, not breaking cover before Arkham gave the word.
The kid followed the perimeter of the roof, never taking his eyes from the team below. If he knew they were light two men, the kid didn’t seem overly concerned. He stopped right next to Arkham. He could have reached out and touched the boy. Two more steps, and he’d run into Arkham. Instead, he stopped, never taking his eye from the scope.
“You’re all clear,” the kid said. “They’ve made a circle around the theater. All four of them. If you’re going to take them, now’s the time.”
Three things registered for Arkham. First, his team was about to be ambushed by an unknown number of hostiles. Second, the kid wasn’t a boy. It was a girl. Third, she was deliberately deceiving whomever she was talking to.
Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Nikki – Being tortured and watching the father of my child die has scarred me. There are deep wounds etched into my soul that no one can possibly understand. They think I loved him, that I’m mourning, but I’m not. The horror of that day lurks in the shadows of my mind, and I can’t seem to break free. Not until Ashes drags me to my first ultrasound and I see my son for the first time. I owe it to him to do better, but it’s too late. I’ve lost my job, and I’m losing my apartment. I should have known Ashes would swoop in like a knight on his shining Harley to save the day.
Ashes – It’s my fault that Nikki lost Bane, that their kid will grow up without a dad. My cousin is responsible for what happened to them, and I can’t undo that pain. So instead, I take care of Nikki the best I can while trying to maintain some distance between us. I’ve loved her for years, but I can never tell her. Renegade, the Road Captain for my club and her brother, would kill me if he knew that Nikki plagues my thoughts day and night. I never counted on taking her home with me, or getting caught in the shower with her. But our happy-ever-after wasn’t quite in reach. When a series of events nearly tears us apart, I vow that I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to her. It never occurred to me that she’d be the one to save me.
I hated seeing Nikki like this. What should have been a joyous time for her only made her sadder. Losing Bane, especially in such a brutal way, had done a number on her. It had been half a year since his death, and still she was barely living. None of us had a clue the two had been so close. Even her brother, Renegade, had been kept in the dark. I’d made it my responsibility to keep an eye on her. If it weren’t for my addict cousin, then Bane would still be alive, and Nikki wouldn’t be facing motherhood alone.
Her belly swelled with her kid, hers and Bane’s, and I thought she was pretty damn adorable. Even when she hadn’t showered in a few days, there was just something about Nikki that made you look twice. She wasn’t stunning, or gorgeous like the women in Hollywood, but the girl-next-door look was really doing it for me. Not that I would touch her. I had no right. Besides, she was still mourning the loss of Bane.
“Hey, Nik, your calendar says you have a doctor’s appointment today. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” I asked as I leaned against the entryway to the living room.
She’d curled on the couch, still in her pajamas, and was staring vacantly at the TV. I knew she wasn’t watching it because a movie that looked damn close to soft porn was playing, and that wasn’t her thing. At least, it hadn’t been since I’d started coming over here every week.
“Nik.” Moving farther into the room, I hunkered in front of her, slowly reaching for her hand. I gave it a slight squeeze, pulling her attention to me. “There you are, pretty girl. Come on. You need to shower and dress for your appointment. I’ll give you a ride.”
“Appointment?”
I nodded. “Doctor. Have to check on the kiddo and make sure they’re all right.”
Her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears. “I’m supposed to find out the sex today. I get to see my baby and I…”
I reached up and wiped away the tear that slipped down her cheek. “I know, sweetheart. I know. I’m so damn sorry Bane can’t be here for this, but you don’t have to go alone.”
I’d like to think Bane would have been with her every step of the way, but I honestly didn’t know. He’d enjoyed the club pussy as much as anyone else. The fact he’d been with Nikki, and she was the sister of our Road Captain, made me think he’d been more serious this time. If he hadn’t died and he’d fucked around on Nik, then Renegade would have gelded him.
She gave me a slight nod and I helped her stand. Not trusting her to actually take a shower and not just crawl back in the bed, I led her down the hall to her room. I’d picked up a bit the last time I was here, but the place already looked like a cyclone had hit. From what I knew of Nikki, she’d been something of a neat freak before losing Bane. The men who took her had beat her pretty bad, but even worse, they’d made her watch as they tortured and killed Bane, a Prospect no one had realized she was seeing.
I went into her bathroom and turned on the shower, set out a clean towel for her, then stepped out. Nikki shuffled past me, more zombie than human at the moment. I left her to it and started picking up the mess in her room and stripping the bed. When I turned to shove everything in the hamper near her closet, I sighed and stared at her. She was still standing in the bathroom, vacantly looking at the shower.
She needed help, but she refused to go talk to a shrink, and Renegade insisted she’d be fine and to leave her be. I couldn’t, though. Either my brother wasn’t aware of just how bad Nik had gotten, or he was choosing to ignore it. I understood he was preoccupied with his new woman and daughter, and the kid they had on the way, but that didn’t change the fact his sister needed him. I could go to the Pres and ask him to speak to Renegade, but I didn’t want to do that. Nikki needed someone, and I was happy to help. I considered it penance for my fucked-up cousin being responsible for what happened to Nikki and Bane.
“Nikki, I need you to take a shower and get ready for your appointment,” I reminded her again.
When she still didn’t move, I knew I’d have to take things further than I should. I reached up and eased the elastic from her hair, letting it tumble down her back. Bracing myself for however she might react, I reached for the hem of her shirt and slowly started to lift it, hoping like hell she’d snap out of it and shove me away, then undress herself. Her bare breasts came into view, and I slammed my eyes shut, and cursed the fact I was getting hard. It was all kinds of fucked up. I managed to get her shirt off, then shoved her pajama pants down her legs. Settling my hands on her hips, I noticed she hadn’t been wearing panties. It was tempting to let my hands wander over that smooth skin, but I held back.
I brushed past her and tested the shower water, warming it a little more, before I reached back and took her hand. I tried really fucking hard not to look anywhere but her face as I stuck her under the shower spray. She sucked in a breath, her eyes going wide, and I could tell the moment she was coming back to the present and getting out of her head.
“Ashes?” she asked.
“Yeah, Nik. Just… shower, okay? I’ll put some clothes out for you, then wait in the living room.”
My gaze dropped to her breasts, and I knew it made me an asshole, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself from going even lower. The swell of her belly made my fingers twitch as I fought the urge to reach out and place my hand there. Nikki seemed to read my mind and reached out, taking my hand in hers, then pressed my palm to her belly. I stared a moment before looking up to see her watching me.
“It’s okay if you want to feel the baby,” she said. “You’ve been here every week helping take care of us. It’s almost more your kid than Bane’s.”
I shook my head. “No, Nik. The baby is yours and Bane’s, and everyone knows it. The kid will know it too. We’ll all tell him or her about their dad, and how he died trying to save you. He’ll be a hero in his kid’s eyes.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I’m scared, Ashes.”
Ah, hell. I could handle about anything, except tears. I slipped off my cut and laid it on the counter, then toed off my boots. I stepped into the shower and gathered Nikki in my arms, not caring that I was getting soaked. She cried and clutched at my shirt. It was all kinds of fucked up that she was naked, and my dick was more than aware of the fact. If Renegade saw me right now, he’d kick my ass.
“Everything’s going to be fine, Nik. You don’t have to do any of this on your own. The club is behind you one hundred percent. You know that, right? It’s not just Renegade. We’re all here for you.”
She sniffled and looked up at me. “No, not everyone. Just you. My brother hardly comes by, and I never see the others unless I go to the compound.”
I bit my tongue before I said something I shouldn’t. I’d thought long and hard about her situation. The fact she lived alone and didn’t have anyone to check on her, other than the club, meant that she’d be safer at the compound. If anything happened, it would take too long to reach her. Hell, that was if anyone even knew she needed help. I wanted her to move behind the gates, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. She wasn’t mine.
Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley‘s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!
Published by Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Marteeka Karland
Who knew I’d find my destiny at Christmas? Not me. Or her daddy. Don’t mean I ain’t keeping her.
Darcy: I didn’t run away from a sadistic stepfather and a mother who wouldn’t protect me just to be carted off by some strange man. I fought the son of a bitch. Woulda won, too, except the bastard had help.
Viper’s rough around the edges and some kind of badass biker, so there’s no way this is going to work out well. Unfortunately, he calls to me on a purely sexual level. Makes my heart race and my body melt just looking at me. It doesn’t help he’s actually nice to me. He claims to know my dad. My real dad. Says he’s been sent to bring me back. I have no idea if I believed him or not. Just don’t really have a choice but to go along. At least for now.
Viper: I tracked the cunning little wench for three fuckin’ days. In the fuckin’ snow. She’s good, too. She survived on her own in a hostile environment with only a little trouble. That alone would make me respect for her, but then she had to go and kick me in the balls. Had I not been on the ground in agony, I’d have been turned on beyond belief. Now, with her safely under my protection, I’ve got to figure out how to keep my hands off her so her father won’t kill my sorry ass. He’s our intel man and one of my best friends, so I don’t want to cause him grief. But I want Darcy. Badly.
It’s Christmas Eve, and there’s an enemy on our doorstep with a unique gift. One that will leave us all with some hard choices — Darcy especially. What unfolds next is something none of us ever planned for.
Warning: Viper (Bones MC 4) deals with issues of abuse and human trafficking that may be triggers for some readers.
Winter hung heavy in the hills of Kentucky. One thing Viper hated was winter. Not because of the cold, snow, and ice, but because of the absolute silence in the outdoors. It made hunting that much more difficult. Normally, he enjoyed a challenge, but when the prey was human, there could be nothing to give him away. He’d been on her trail for three days now. There had been no sign of a fire or that she’d sheltered anywhere other than a snow dome she’d built to block the wind and keep in as much of her body heat as she could.
She was good, he’d give her that. He’d been in the service with men who couldn’t do what she could, especially given the few resources she had. As far as he could tell, she had nothing but the clothes on her back. One thing was for sure, once he got her back to the Bones compound, she had some explaining to do.
“Anything yet?” Data sounded anxious. And with good reason. Their intel and communications man had only just found out the he had a daughter, and only because her mother had called exactly three days ago — an hour before Viper and Arkham had been set on her trail — and informed him. Though the woman had remarried several years earlier, she kept in touch with Data. Why, Viper didn’t know. That was Data’s story and one he’d have to share with his daughter. Apparently, the only reason his ex had told him about Darcy now was because she’d run off, and her mother was done with the girl. Couldn’t deal with Darcy any more. Data’s daughter was her daddy through and through. Though Viper had no idea what Darcy had done, it was enough to make her mother and the woman’s husband abandon Darcy while the couple and their other two daughters — not Data’s — went to California on vacation. Data had been livid. Viper had a feeling his next assignment would be to hunt down the girl’s mother and stepfather and teach them a lesson.
“I’m just that little bit behind her, brother. Another hour and I should have her, though.”
“She’s one little girl! You’re a big bad Marine sniper! This shouldn’t be that fuckin’ hard!” Viper raised his eyebrows. Data was normally a by-the-numbers kind of man. He never got excited unless it was warranted. Kind of like when he realized his crew was in the middle of El Diablo’s muscle with only one team and minimal backup.
“Relax, brother.” Arkham sounded almost bored when Viper knew he was alert and watching as intently as he was. “Girl’s wily. Uses the landscape for cover. Even found a snow dome where she slept last night.”
“She can’t last out there forever with no fire. Rein her in!”
Viper knew when a man was on the edge. Didn’t take a genius to know Data was there. “We got this, brother. We’ll have her back at the compound by tomorrow.” It was a hard promise, but one Viper intended to keep. He ground his teeth. One little girl indeed.
Light was fading in the winter sky. Clouds hung heavily, promising more snow after nightfall if not sooner. Nothing stirred around them. Animals huddled down to wait out the coming storm. Even the evergreen trees were still in the slight breeze. The silence was nearly total.
“Got her,” Arkham muttered through his earpiece. “Your four o’clock. She just sat on a fallen log.” There was a pause while Viper looked in the indicated direction. “She’s done, Viper. I’m headed in.”
Sure enough, the girl sat on the long about a hundred yards away. She looked up at the sky, then at her surroundings and put her head in her hands. Yep. She was done.
Viper made his way to her as Arkham came at her from the opposite direction. They were almost on her before she realized she wasn’t alone. Immediately she slipped off the log and crouched into a defensive position, grabbing a rock beside her to use as a weapon.
She didn’t say a word. Viper expected to see fear in her eyes, and perhaps there was. But mostly what he saw was a cold, hard determination.
“We’re not gonna hurt you,” Viper said, hands out in front of him as he approached her.
“I know,” she said, her voice a whisper of sound.
“Viper!” It was the only warning Arkham could issue before the girl attacked. She launched herself at Viper. In reflex, he caught her.
Two things happened when he closed his arms around her. First, Viper recognized she was more than a girl. The woman had curves aplenty, two of which were mashed against his chest, rubbing over him with every movement of her body. Second, the woman was fucking fierce. Viper was perfectly capable of defending himself, but he was hesitant to do anything for fear of hurting her. So she pummeled him with that fucking rock. By sheer luck, she didn’t catch his head with it, only his jaw. Viper retained his hold on her with one arm securely around her waist while using the other to block her blows as best he could. For such a small little thing, she packed quite a punch! Despite his efforts, she still connected several times before Arkham disarmed her. Bastard didn’t help him any more than that. And still, she fought. Apparently frustrated with her lack of progress, Darcy shrieked, kicking out and continuing to hit at him with her fists.
“Knock it the fuck off, woman!” Viper finally set her on her feet and captured her wrists in his hands and wrapped his arms around her, trapping her with his superior strength. “Look at me, Darcy!” Viper used every ounce of command he possessed. In the end, it was probably the use of her name that made her pause in her tirade. “Look at me!” When she gave him a wary look he took a breath. “Your father sent us to find you and bring you home.”
“I’m not going back! I’m old enough to make my own decisions, and I’ll be damned if I go back to that bastard!” Her struggles resumed. She tried to hike her knee up into his groin, but he managed to avoid it, pulling her tighter against him. It was getting exceedingly hard to ignore the lush curves pressed against him. The woman was tempting in the worst way.
“You’ve never even met your dad,” Viper said, struggling to hold her while not hurting her. “I assure you, he’s a good man.”
“Rayburn, my stepdad, is a molesting bastard and my mom is nothing more than his pimp! I’ll kill both of them and you before I go back!”
Viper was so shocked, he relaxed his hold for a second, giving the girl enough leverage to break free. Darcy promptly kicked him in the balls before spinning around to flee again. Arkham caught her, spun her back around, and zip-tied her hands behind her back, ensuring he didn’t get a repeat of what Viper got. Once she was secured, he looped a length of rope around her waist and tied her to a tree.
“That should take care of that.” Arkham turned his attention to Viper, kneeling down beside his biker brother. “You gonna be all right?”
“Shut the fuck up, you smug bastard.” Viper tried to sound menacing, but it was hard to do when his balls were stinging. Didn’t help with him down on one knee looking up at the big man, either.
“Just trying to help a brother out.” Arkham raised his hands in surrender before turning back to their prisoner.
“You gonna fight me, girl?”
“You gonna try to take me back to that hellhole?” She had to look up at Arkham, but Darcy didn’t seem the least bit intimidated. In fact, she looked to be sizing him up, looking for the easiest way to take him down.
“Hadn’t planned on it,” he said.
When Arkham didn’t offer anything else, Viper added, “It’s your biological father who sent us. We’re takin’ you back to the clubhouse.”
She looked from Arkham to Viper. “Biological father. Clubhouse?”
“Yeah.” Viper groaned as he got to his feet. “Look. I’m Viper. This is Arkham. We’ve been huntin’ you for three fuckin’ days, sweetheart. I’d like to get out of the fuckin’ snow.”
Erotic romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of.
If you haven’t read the first book in the Devil’s Boneyard MC series, now is a perfect time! Get it for the low price of $0.99 for a limited time at online retailers.
Bestseller at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iTunes!
Josie: I spent an amazing three days with Jackal before he disappeared, back to his club, the Devil’s Boneyard. He’d made it clear what we had was a temporary thing — he never wanted the picket fence and kids. I was fine with that. Then I faced the scariest thing ever. Telling my big brother, Tank, a Dixie Reaper, I was pregnant and alone at the age of nineteen. He wanted to go after Jackal, but I wouldn’t let him. I wanted this baby, and I knew Jackal wouldn’t. I never expected to see him again. Funny how fate has a way of surprising you.
Jackal: I’ve thought about Josie often since I walked away from her over two years ago. When I’m finally back in Dixie Reapers territory, I knew I’d look her up, see if we could have some more fun. I never counted on the little girl glued to her hip, or the fact the kid was mine. So I did what I do best. I ran. But now I want something I’ve never wanted before. My family. Because Josie and our daughter, Allegra, are exactly what’s been missing in my life. I just have to do some groveling and hope she’ll forgive me. Easy, right? I’ve never had a woman tell me no.
Figures the one I want more than anything might be the first to send me packing. But when she gets an unexpected visitor who threatens her and our child, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. Now that I’m ready to keep my woman and kid, I’m not letting anyone take them away.
WARNING: Lots of over the top hot sex, an alpha biker who just can’t seem to get it right, and an adorable little girl who will steal your heart. Guaranteed HEA. No cliffhanger.
Praise for Jackal (Devil’s Boneyard MC 1)
“…the sex is hotter than a firecracker. If MCs are your thing, you’ll like these stories.”
— 4 Stars from Alberta, Manic Reader Reviews
“Gruff bikers with a sweet exterior and club that will protect their family from everyone–that is what I loved about this series. This book has multiple plots, which keep you in your toes. Josie’s brother Tank is a Dixie Reaper and when she finds herself pregnant after spending a couple days with him, the Dixie Reapers rally around her and her child. It is a sizzling romance with a hint of violence.”
“I’m sorry, Tank. I tried to stop her,” the Prospect from outside said as he loomed behind me and reached for my arm.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” I said, snapping my teeth at him.
The Prospect jumped back, jerking his hand away from me. Asshole. What the fuck was wrong with guys? Like it was okay to just manhandle a woman. Bad enough they’d eye you like a piece of candy and you just knew they were undressing you with their eyes, but touching was a no-no unless I said it was okay.
Tank groaned and met me in the middle of the room. “What the fuck are you doing here, Josephine?”
“It’s Josie,” I said. I’d only told him that about a million and one times, and he still didn’t get it. Josephine was the name of some prissy princess type, and that so wasn’t me. I was high-heeled boots, black leather, and a good dose of sass all the way. “I hate that fucking name and you damn well know it.”
“Fine. What the fuck are you doing here, Josie?” Tank asked.
“Mom has gone too damn far this time. Either you do something, or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” And she had gone really fucking far. I was beyond livid, but I didn’t know where to turn except to my big brother. Well, half-brother, but he was still the only family I had outside of Mom. That I knew of. Dad was such a horndog, it wouldn’t surprise me if we didn’t have siblings in every damn state. Maybe even a few other countries.
“You know your whore mother doesn’t listen to a fucking thing I say,” Tank said. “You’re nineteen, Josie. Move the fuck out.”
“And go where?” I mean seriously. Did he expect money to just magically appear? I’d tried the college thing, but it wasn’t for me. I wasn’t about to tell anyone I’d been stalked and attacked on campus. Mom would make it all my fault, and Tank would likely beat the fucker into the ground. Then big brother would be in jail. Now that I’d refused to go back… No, I wasn’t going to think about that because big brother was going to fix it. At least he fucking better.
Tank shrugged.
I screeched and stomped my foot before marching over to the bar. The Prospect handing out drinks stared at me wide-eyed, not that I was surprised. I was acting like a fucking brat and I knew it, but dammit. I was seriously losing my shit over this mess.
My life had become so fucked up in a very short time, and I didn’t see any way out of it. I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I refused to listen to my mother this time. She’d ruled my life long enough. I was going to take a stand. I just preferred not to take that stand and end up living in a cardboard box behind the diner. I might not be a prissy princess, but I also knew I didn’t have the skills to survive on the streets. Just the thought of not being able to wash my hair every day was enough to give me hives.
Okay, so maybe I was a little bit of a prissy princess.
“Whiskey,” I snapped at the Prospect.
“You’re underage,” Tank said.
“Since when do you obey the law?” I sneered. Please. As if my big, badass biker brother gave a shit about what was legal or not. I’d be willing to bet every penny in his account came from illegal dealings. Not that I’d ever asked, and I never would. I didn’t give a shit what he did, as long as he stayed alive and out of jail.
Tank tossed his hands into the air and turned away from me. “Someone else can deal with this shit.”
I could feel someone moving closer to me, but I was a little more interested in staring down the Prospect who still hadn’t given me my fucking whiskey. I glared, and he glared right back. Little did he realize, I could do this shit all night, and I was not leaving until I’d had a drink or five. No way I was dealing with my fucked-up life stone-cold sober. If I had to go home to the she-beast known as Mom, I was going to need some liquid courage. Even that wouldn’t likely be enough to face the fate she had in store for me. Just the thought of it made me want to puke.
“Give. Me. The. God. Damn. Whiskey.”
“You’re under –”
I growled and bared my teeth at him. “You’re about two fucking seconds older than me and I know you’re all up in here whoring and drinking your ass off every night. Don’t you lecture me, you fucking prick.”
I heard a chuckle to my left and turned my head in that direction, but the baleful glare I was going to blast the guy with fizzled and died when I got a good look at him. He was quite a bit older than me, probably close to my brother’s age, but God was he sexy as hell. His chocolate eyes just pulled me in and promised all sorts of wicked delights. My gaze strayed down his chest, and I couldn’t help but lick my lips. The material clung to him, showing off very well-defined pecs that I wouldn’t mind exploring. The patch on his cut said he was part of Devil’s Boneyard, an MC I hadn’t heard of before now. But if he was here on Dixie Reapers property, then he must be okay.
“Jackal,” he said, holding out a hand.
“Josie.”
“So I heard.” He smirked. “So, do you really want a drink? Because there are other, much more entertaining ways to blow off steam.”
“Oh, are there?” I asked, playing along. I didn’t whore around, but no one would believe me if I told them that. I dressed to kill, but I’d taken my own virginity with a vibrator when I’d turned sixteen. No way I was leaving something like that up to a fumbling guy who didn’t know fuck all about pleasing a girl. Since then, I hadn’t seen the reason to get overly dirty. But this guy… Yeah, I could see myself getting all hot and sweaty with him.
He reached over and trailed a finger down my bare arm, making me shiver in the most delicious way. “I bet I could keep you entertained for hours. Maybe days.”
“Days?” My gaze dropped to his lap and the rather impressive cock straining against his jeans before flicking back up to his face. “You seem awfully sure of yourself.”
“Oh, baby, you have no idea.” He winked and I couldn’t help but smile.
I’d often had fun flirting with Tank’s brothers, but there was something about this guy that made me want to do much, much more. For the first time in my life, I was tempted to take a true walk on the wild side. He seemed like the type of guy who could make a woman forget her name, claw up his back, and beg for more. If I was going to let some guy fuck me, he was definitely at the top of the list of possibilities. He had this sexy smirk that made my panties damp, and the way he ran his hand through his hair had me wanting to lean just a little closer. And those tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves! Oh yeah, I wanted to explore those with my tongue.
“Maybe you should convince me,” I said.
“I thought you’d never ask.” His eyes blazed as he reached for my hand, tugging me off the barstool and leading me out the front door.
I didn’t know where we were going, and right then, I didn’t much care. As long as I wasn’t heading home, I was all right with any destination, especially if Mr. Tall Dark and Sexy was leading the way.
We stopped at a Harley that made me want to drool, it was that goddamn beautiful. He swung his leg over the seat, then held out his hand. I climbed on behind him, my body fitting against his like we were two pieces of a puzzle. I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on as he pulled out of the lot and headed for the front gate. The Prospect on duty let us through, and Jackal opened up the bike on the highway, flying down the road and taking us farther and farther away from my small Alabama town.
Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley‘s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!
He’s the only man my father can trust when the cartel attempts to take us out. A vicious motorcycle gang member, he’s deadly with his fists and firearms.
He’s also the bastard responsible for my mother’s death.
I’m the one who’ll make him pay. A too-young, too-innocent woman he lusts after but refuses to touch.
He might believe he’s strong enough to withstand my plans for retaliation, but I will bring him to his knees and have my revenge.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
He’s the only man my father can trust when the cartel attempts to take us out. A vicious motorcycle gang member, he’s deadly with his fists and firearms.
He’s also the bastard responsible for my mother’s death.
I’m the one who’ll make him pay. A too-young, too-innocent woman he lusts after but refuses to touch.
He might believe he’s strong enough to withstand my plans for retaliation, but I will bring him to his knees and have my revenge.
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Magenta: The day my mom took up with Black Reign was the worst day of my life. She became ol’ lady for their president. I became another whore for the club to push around. I fought them at every turn because death was preferable to living this life. Beaten, downtrodden, I was about to be given to yet another man. The scariest man I’d ever seen. He was intent on having me on his own turf, and I wasn’t sure I would survive.
Sword: The second I saw the slight young thing being beaten by that ogre of a man, something inside me I’d thought leashed broke free. A demon better left in check reared his head, and I knew she would be mine no matter what. I got her, but she came with bigger problems than I was prepared to deal with. Not that it mattered. I’m Bones MC. We don’t give up, and we protect our own. Even against The Devil himself…
***WARNING!*** Bones MC has no pussies. These men are rough around the edges and fight as hard as they love. You can expect violence — some that may have triggers — and smoking hot sex. If either is something you object to, you should pass. Otherwise, expect an HEA and a man who always satisfies his woman.
“This is a bad, fucked-up place if ever I saw one.” Sword glanced at Torpedo, his brother in the Bones MC. They’d made the typically thirteen-hour trip to Lake Worth, Florida in just under twelve hours, riding non-stop as fast as they dared. Cain had sent a group of them to contact a club known as Black Reign. If their information could be believed, Black Reign was moving pills up the “Oxy Highway” from Florida to Kentucky. Cain couldn’t care less what they sold or how they sold it, but he would not tolerate another club moving shit through their territory without the OK from Bones.
Now, he lay on his belly watching the dingy brown clubhouse in the middle of a seaside urban sprawl.
“Yeah,” Torpedo, their vice-president, agreed. He had squatted down just behind Sword but still low to the ground. “I got a real bad feelin’ about this.”
Sword glanced at the other four men with him. Viper, situated in a similar position next to Torpedo, looked coiled with tension, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Didn’t mean anything, though. The man always looked that way. Trucker was impassive as ever, farther behind them and slightly to the left so he was hidden in the foliage but still able to see their target. He polished a huge wrench with a black rag as if he planned on working on one of their vehicles. The man always carried a gun, but Sword had never seen him use it outside their work with ExFil, a paramilitary mercenary company for hire to anyone wishing extra protection in the most violent areas of the world. He had seen Trucker open a can of whoop-ass more than once with that exact same wrench. Arkham and Torpedo each checked various weapons on their person, readying for what was to come.
Torpedo was the vice-president of the club and would do the talking. Cain had originally intended on coming himself, but Torpedo, Sword, and Bohannon had all three protested vehemently. Cain, ever the ultra-alpha, had gone nose to nose with the trio, and they might have come to blows except for one minor incident.
Angel, Cain’s woman, had put a restraining arm on her man and pulled him away from his brothers. Though Cain routinely gave the woman anything and everything she wanted, he’d looked at her, a warning in his eyes for her not to go against him in front of his brothers.
“I know you need to do this, Cain,” she’d said. At the time Sword thought she was ignoring Cain’s warning. Instead, she’d had a very good reason. “But I need you more than the club needs you to go to Florida and confront these men.” She’d said it softly, and there had been a sheen of tears in her eyes. Sword knew it was an intensely personal moment, but she’d brought it up in front of them. Now, they’d know what the problem was, and they’d all crush it for her.
Cain had known it, too. Any problem his woman had from the outside world, the club would know about it. They’d all band together and make it right, no matter the cost. “I can’t let you tell me in private, Angel. Not now that you’ve brought it up in front of the club during club business. You shouldn’t even be here.” The president had been angry she’d snuck in. They could all tell from the look on her face, though, she had a good reason.
“Cain, I’m pregnant.” There had been instant silence in the room. Cain had sucked in a short inhalation of air before grasping her by the shoulders. “Don’t be mad because you think I was holding something back from you. I just found out today.”
“Woman, you’d better start talking.”
It turned out that Angel had gone to the doctor because she’d been weak and very sick over the last few weeks. Nothing abnormal for a pregnancy there. However, she’d hidden most of the sickness from everyone, and she’d reached a point where she was very dehydrated and, once her doctor figured out she was pregnant, he’d wanted her to be admitted for IV fluids and medication for nausea. She’d initially refused, not wanting to alarm Cain, but the oral meds the doctor had given Angel weren’t working. She was unable to keep anything down and was afraid she’d harm the baby if she didn’t go to the hospital like her doctor recommended. She was terrified of losing the baby and needed Cain at her side.
Bohannon, the club’s main enforcer, had jumped all over that shit. “You can’t leave her, Cain. You’re not the kind of man to leave his woman to deal with this alone.”
Cain had given the big man a withering look, but had readily agreed. He’d pulled Angel into his arms while the woman finally gave in to what had to be a horrible bout of nerves. She’d clung to Cain and silently sobbed into his shirt. They couldn’t hear her, but the shaking of her slight body gave her away.
Naturally, Bohannon, as the main enforcer for Bones, had thought he’d go. If they were going to warn an MC out of their territory, they needed all the muscle they could get.
“You know that shit ain’t happening.” Torpedo had stood from his seat at the table where they’d gathered to hash out what to do in this situation. It was something they always did. Whether it was Bones or in preparing for a mission with ExFil, they talked through the problem and built a plan of attack together with Cain having the last say.
“As vice-president, I have to be there, especially since Cain has more pressing problems.” He looked at Angel then, his eyes softening for the first time. “You make him take care of you and the little man who’ll be the newest member of Bones,” he’d said, serenity in his gaze and his voice. “With Cain focused on Angel, the club will need you here, Bohannon. You’re third in the chain of command. Sword will come with me as enforcer. Trucker, as always, will provide the chase vehicle with the weapons. Viper and Arkham will be the muscle. Data can keep track of us and run communications from his command center here. If anything goes wrong, you can send whoever you see fit after us.”
“It’s thirteen fuckin’ hours away, Torpedo! Any help I could bring would be hopelessly too late.”
“Then we’ll just have to make sure we don’t need you. Besides, Salvation’s Bane is less than half an hour away in Palm Beach. Thorn can send any help we need.”
Luna, Bohannon’s woman, curled her small hands around the enforcer’s biceps. “They’ll be fine, Bohannon. Let them do their jobs.”
“Does every woman in this fuckin’ place think she can take over the fuckin’ show?” Bohannon grumbled, but his large hand enveloped his woman’s smaller one in a loving gesture even as he groused.
“Only when the testosterone overflows. It reduces you to cavemen, and we can’t have that.”
Everyone chuckled, and the tension level dropped. Sword had never seen a club where the patched members let women in on meetings, but the women of Bones didn’t seem to care for conventionality. They simply slipped in when they knew they were needed and directed the flow of churning water in the direction it flowed best. None of them had been with their men long, but Sword could already see the positive impact they were having. Simply keeping a group of alpha males like this one focused on the problem at hand without unnecessarily risking themselves wasn’t an easy job, yet these two small women handled it like pros.
Now, as he lay on his belly watching the abandoned warehouse that served as clubhouse for Black Reign, Sword got the sickening feeling his team was undermanned. If they continued with the meeting as planned, they’d be walking into more muscle than they were prepared for.
“You gonna call in reinforcements?” Trucker’s question was soft and nonchalant, as if the man could care less. It was a simple enough question. The fact Trucker asked it, however, showed he was thinking along the same line Sword was. Which meant that…
“Yeah. I think I am.”
“Get Data to give the heads up to Thorn. He’ll get Salvation’s Bane ready in case we need them.”
“Already on that, bro.” He held up his cell phone. “All you gotta do is say the word. Thorn is less than five minutes away parked and waiting. Apparently, Bohannon jumped the gun and had them on stand-by over an hour ago. Surely to hell and God above we can last five minutes.”
“Be embarrassing otherwise,” Arkham chimed in. Though Sword was looking at the clubhouse through field glasses, Arkham and Viper were tracking the place with sniper rifles.
“Not sure I’ve ever met anyone as bloodthirsty as you and Viper.” Torpedo was only half joking.
“We got movement.” Sword stiffened as he watched as a big, burly man dragged in a woman by her hair. She screamed, clutching her hair to relieve the tension the big man had put on her scalp. The woman tried to back off, planting her feet, but the concrete was slick and unforgiving. She ended up on the ground, the man still dragging her by an abundance of hair. Two more women followed on their own. The latter chatted with each other, ignoring the drama in front of them. When the women passed the struggling couple, disappearing into the clubhouse, the hulking man pulled the woman to her feet and backhanded her across the face so hard she crumpled at his feet.
Sword’s entire being shrieked in outrage. He couldn’t see her face, but her legs and arms were firm and sleek with fine muscle, a testament of her youth. He thought she was an adult, but probably quite young. Protective instincts rose in him like never before, and it was all he could do to keep himself from charging to her rescue.
“Easy there, brother,” Torpedo said, laying a restraining hand on his shoulder. “You know that girl?”
Had he said something out loud? “No.”
“You’re growling and tense like you intend to do some damage.”
A dark country road leads newly-graduated Ashlyn Davis to the site of a terrible accident and the side of a dying man. Braving a storm and her total lack of internet or emergency training, she stays with him until help arrives. Under the blood and broken bones, her rescue is hot as hell and twice as forbidden. As the Vice President of the Storm Crows MC, Joker is danger personified, but Ash forges a friendship with him and finds the steadiness she desperately needs in the unlikeliest of places.
The call connected as she got up the nerve to touch his throat again, this time daring to press against his damp, unconscious flesh. He had a pulse. Not strong, but present. The call dropped. “Merde, sheit, hell, dammit…”
Two more tries. First, the call dropped before it even rang. The next connected, buffered by the steady stream of frantic curses. “Please, you’ve got to hurry. It’s a bike wreck, and he’s… I don’t know how long he’s been here. His leg’s busted, and his arm’s pretty bad, too, and his helmet’s still on…”
The 911 lady sounded less than patient. “Well, can you tell me where you are?”
“No, I can’t!” she hissed. “My phone’s got GPS. Can’t you just find me?”
“The county hasn’t upgraded yet.”
Of course. Of freaking course. Why would Pharaoh County ever leave 1957? Panicked tears stung Ashlyn’s eyes, straining her voice. “I’m on the … County Maintenance 20 … North of Oak Grove.”
“How far?”
“I—I don’t know. A little bit after Route A…”
“Is that where Ryman Dumbrowski’s farmhouse burned down?”
“How would I know? I don’t know a-anything about this place! Google won’t load, and I just … just drive out along Route A, take County Maintenance 20. White Miata in the stupid road! I put the flashers on. Please!”
Powerless to move the ambulance, she fumbled his visor up, half recalling some Girl Scout leader talking about airways, and checking them. The guy made a pained, grunting noise. Ashlyn choked back a sob. I moved him, and now he’s dying. He’s dying now. God, why is this even real life?
Inside the helmet, his face was a bloody mess, but most of it seemed to be coming from his nose. And he kept breathing. Worst—or best?—his swollen eyes moved. Hard to tell if the slits were blinking or not, but she opted for yes.
“Shh, it’s okay.” She softened her voice, barely touching her fingertips to his neck again—the only bit of skin both visible and not shredded, sliced, or over obviously broken bones. “Y-you… Can you talk? Your name? What’s your name?”
His eyes, both of which were almost hidden in bruises but might have been brown or black, darted around for a few seconds before they locked on hers. “Nathan,” he said in a raw, rough whisper. The headlights kept his ruined face mostly shadowed, but she smiled, hoping to encourage him.
“Nathan. Okay. Don’t move any more. You had a pretty bad spill, but help’s coming. Um. Eventually.”
Nathan winced and his eyes shut. “Might … be faster … to go to them…” He sounded like he thought this idea did not belong to the same order of likelihood as Mr. Tumnus running out of the nearest oil well.
“Right. Yeah. First, um…” What do they do in TV shows? Come on, what would Grey’s Anatomy say? “Tell me if you can wiggle your toes. Um. Your right ones. The left leg’s … kind of broken. Let’s not move it.” She figured that would take him a minute or two. He had long legs and probably a concussion, so it seemed like a big job.
Thunder rumbled again, and Ashlyn cringed, looking at her tiny, two-seater convertible. She focused on his legs. Big, much longer than hers, plus all the blood and swelling. Crap. Should I take his boots off, or does that make it worse? I should probably tourniquet something… But what if I tie the wrong bit? Didn’t someone say those were bad now?
“Moving.” He didn’t sound convincing, but if he thought his toes were moving, why argue?
“Okay.” She relayed the information into the phone. More syllables cut up into unintelligible nonsense answered. She took a deep breath, tried not to look completely terrified, and got off her knees to settle down onto the road beside him, ignoring the gravel biting into her hip and the unpleasant chill of wet dirt on her bare, shorts-clad leg. Do I keep him talking?If he has a head injury, he’ll die if he passes out. But he was already passed out once… Why the hell didn’t I get a nursing degree? Where is Google when I need it?
Nathan’s head tilted back in the helmet, or maybe it settled into the mud. “Th-think… they’re gonna make it?”
She glanced at him but a second later, her gaze rolled to the sky as fat raindrops landed on her arms and then the top of her head. Of course.
“They’ll be here, Nathan. Hold on.” She ran to her car, frantically tossing through the stuff piled in the passenger seat and floorboard. Her fingers closed around the Hello Kitty umbrella just as the sky opened up. She raced back and dropped next to him with a muffled shriek at the icy water rolling down her spine. Cold-as-hell rain would be Mother Nature’s choice today. Why not?
“I … I can’t believe … I’m gonna die here…” His mirthless laugh turned into a moan.
“Shut up. You’re not dying.” The words came out harsh to forestall any further argument. After two fumbled attempts, the umbrella blossomed above them, shielding Nathan from another mouthful of rain.
“Well…” His gaze swept over her as he exhaled. “There … there are worse ways to go…” She glanced down to find her light pink shirt clinging to her bra and managed not to roll her eyes. Barely.
“At least your vision’s survived.” She switched the flashlight app off—the headlights were bright enough. Better not to see Nathan’s injuries while she attempted to keep him conscious. The bone in his arm (or out of it, more importantly) was making her queasy. Eternities dragged by. At the end of the universe, sirens wailed like a blessed choir of distant angels. Ashlyn sagged in relief until she realized they were still alone.
“Hey, they’re here!” She squeezed Nathan’s right wrist and touched his neck to find his pulse. Weaker, but still there. He didn’t answer.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Allegra Grey and Emily Sloan are a writing team who bonded over a love of history and Sailor Moon, back when the world was young. Allegra is an army spouse, Em is an artist. You can find them on social media, or researching 1% MC’s for the sequel. Or their new YouTube channel, Storm Crows TV.
Vasha: Being groomed for the man who purchased me is the only life I’ve known. But I want more. I want freedom! My husband-to-be is a cruel, vicious man. I dread the day he claims me. When my bodyguard and friend, Anatoly, arranges my passage to America — as a mail order bride — I hope it means things will be better. I never counted on my husband being so handsome, or so tender. Nor did I know that passion between a man and a woman could be so consuming! He leaves my knees weak and makes my heart race. There’s just one problem… He doesn’t know we’re married! I don’t know how it happened, or how to fix things, but it’s clear Slider is angry. Leaving is the only thing I know to do, but it is also the hardest decision I have ever made.
Slider: I’m not even thirty yet, but I’m already tired of the bullshit that comes with easy women. Maybe seeing my Pres settle down gave me a new perspective. Having the same woman in my bed every night is starting to sound more and more appealing. Or guy. I’m not picky. Love is love. What I didn’t count on was my ex-lover deciding to “help” me with my problem. When he left a naked woman in my bed, I was pissed… until I realized she was in trouble. She needs me, and maybe I need her, too. I always did have a hero complex, but it only takes a few minutes of knowing her before I want to slay her dragons, keep her safe, and show her that not all men are evil.
I didn’t count on her being my wife. F**cking Surge! Always putting his nose where he shouldn’t. When she runs, I realize I seriously screwed up and I have to get her back.
Speak of the devil. I smelled Surge’s cologne before I saw him.
“We good?” he asked.
“Yep. Just tired of the scene inside.”
He shoved a mug of beer toward me. “Here. Drink. Might take the edge off.”
I took it and gulped down half. It was more bitter than what I usually had, but beer was beer. At least, tonight it was. Maybe if I got drunk, I wouldn’t care that I’d be spending the night alone.
He rubbed the back of his neck and cast a look around before reaching for my hand. He twined his fingers with mine. “I know you want more than what I can give you, and you should have it. I’m sorry I’m not ready to settle down, and I hope things don’t get weird between us. I like you, a lot, but I still want to have fun and meet new people. Maybe learn some new things.”
I could understand that. He was younger than me. While I’d been partying hard since high school, Surge was only recently experimenting and opening up more. He’d been a bit reserved when he’d first asked to prospect. I gave his hand a squeeze before letting go.
“It’s fine. I get it. You were clear up front that we were just having fun. Guess I’m just… envious. I see what Spider and Rocket have, and I think I might want that too.”
He looked torn. Before I could react, he pressed his lips against mine in a fast, hard kiss, then took a step back. The way his hand shook belied his agitation, but I hadn’t kicked him out of bed. This was his doing. I didn’t understand what he was thinking or feeling. Had he just been scared of getting too close to someone?
“This might be overstepping, but there’s a gift at your place. All right, so I seriously overstepped, but I think it’s what you need. Before you even said anything, I could tell that you were starting to get that itch. I knew that our time was up or you’d start wanting more from me. You’ve had that look in your eyes almost since the beginning. I’ve been working on this surprise for over a week.”
A week. For a week he’d planning to end things and hadn’t given me a fucking hint? All he’d had to do was say he was bored and we’d have gone our separate ways. No big deal. If he’d just talked to me, been honest about what he was thinking and feeling, then maybe I wouldn’t be so disappointed right now. I’d expected more from him. Not more as in a relationship that was long-lasting, but I’d thought he was man enough to be up front about shit.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.
“You want someone steady in your life, and that’s fine. It’s just not something I want right now,” he said. “Maybe someday. I don’t know. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have it. All I want is for you to be happy, Slider. Now go check out your gift.”
I ran a hand down my face, wondering if there was a way to rewind and undo this conversation. It was weird as shit and getting worse by the moment.
“What the fuck kind of gift is supposed to resolve my relationship status? You better not have hired a fucking stripper.” Nothing against those women, or men, but they just didn’t do anything for me. I didn’t like fake. If someone was with me, I wanted it to be genuine, which was probably why I was so fucking tired of the scene in the clubhouse every night.
He smirked. “Why don’t you go home and find out?”
Jesus. I thrust the half empty mug at him, and stepped off the porch. My bike was buried three deep so I decided to walk my ass home. Mostly I didn’t want to stand around waiting for everyone to move their rides when I didn’t know what the fuck was waiting for me at the house. If Surge had wanted to call it quits between us, all he had to do was say so. I’d known he wasn’t in it for the long haul, but this was fucking ridiculous. What the hell kind of gift had he left me?
Swear to Christ if he’d left a woman in my house, some stranger, I might very well kill him. There were times I had to question his reasoning. There was shit in my house I didn’t need someone digging through, and I knew enough about women to know they were fucking curious. If I walked through my door and got shot, with one of my own guns no less, I was going to be fucking pissed. Worse, if whoever he’d left inside had stolen anything, I was going to pound Surge’s ass into the damn ground.
I stomped up my front steps and threw open the door, not caring if I scared the shit out of whoever was inside. The lights were on, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I went room by room, then closed my eyes and took a calming breath before opening the last door — the one to my bedroom. Curled in the center of my bed, bare as the day she’d been born, was a small female. I blinked a few times, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. Then again, the room did spin a little. Just how strong had that beer been?
Glancing around, I spotted a pile of clothes that looked like they would fall apart at any moment. They weren’t the type of worn material that people paid high dollar for, but more the kind you owned when things were really fucking bad. I focused on the woman. I’d seen plenty of beautiful women before, but this one seemed almost otherworldly. She was dainty, and delicate. Her blonde hair was so pale it was nearly white and lay in a wavy tumble across my pillow. Slowly, I entered the room and shut the door behind me.
Any anger I’d felt melted away. It seemed he hadn’t left a stripper in my house. I wasn’t quite certain what he’d done just yet. But the strippers I’d seen around town wouldn’t have been caught in dead in the clothes piled near the bed. I hoped to Christ he hadn’t paid some homeless woman to sleep with me. How was this woman a gift?
I moved closer and reached out to shift a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek. It was soft, softer than anything I’d felt before. Kneeling next to the bed, I studied her a moment. The sharp blade of her nose, her prominent cheekbones, the way her lashes lay dark against her pale cheeks. It was a little like discovering the fae were real and one had fallen asleep in my bed. I smiled a little, thinking of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, except there was only one grumpy bear in this house, and I was quite content to leave her sleeping in my bed.
Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil’s Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley‘s writing, her motto is the hotter the better — off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place. She doesn’t shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.
The times Harley isn’t writing, she’s thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She’s also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980’s, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990’s to today, even though she’d much rather be reading or writing.
You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you’re there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!
