She’s off-limits. A brother’s daughter. But I’m going to make her mine.
Shella — The Devil’s Fury are the only family I’ve ever truly had. My mom was a junkie. When she died, no one wanted me. Except Grizzly. I had a home, until things went horribly wrong. I went wild, pushed too many boundaries, and overstayed my welcome. So I ran and didn’t look back. Trouble always seems to find me, so it’s no surprise I ended up pregnant, alone, and scared out of my mind. Then Slash shows up. Out of all the Devil’s Fury brothers to come for me, why did it have to be the one I’ve been crushing on since I was a teenager?
Slash — Little Shella was always a pretty girl. Spoiled. Outspoken. A complete terror. Now that she’s all grown up, she’s stunning. I needed to keep my hands to myself, and maybe I would have if she hadn’t been adamant not to disclose the name of her baby-daddy. Only way to protect her is to give her my name. Doesn’t matter I’m old enough to be her father. When I find out her secrets, and the reason she’d behaved so badly, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her feel safe… even if it means burying a few men. I already have blood on my hands. What’s a little more?
WARNING: Slash’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers.
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.
“Her characters are phenomenal and have a lot of depth to them. She is absolutely fantastic at writing an engaging sexy story. Harley Wylde keeps the words flowing so that you have to turn the page to see what happens next.” — All Author
She’s off limits. A brother’s daughter. But I’m going to make her mine.
Cover Art by Bryan Keller Published by Changeling PressRelease Date: November 13, 2020Genres/Themes: ContemporaryRomance, Age Gap, Action Adventure, Pregnancy
Shella – The Devil’s Fury are the only family I’ve ever truly had. My mom was a junkie. When she died, no one wanted me. Except Grizzly. I had a home, until things went horribly wrong. I went wild, pushed too many boundaries, and overstayed my welcome. So I ran and didn’t look back. Trouble always seems to find me, so it’s no surprise I ended up pregnant, alone, and scared out of my mind. Then Slash shows up. Out of all the Devil’s Fury brothers to come for me, why did it have to be the one I’ve been crushing on since I was a teenager?
Slash – Little Shella was always a pretty girl. Spoiled. Outspoken. A complete terror. Now that she’s all grown up, she’s stunning. I needed to keep my hands to myself, and maybe I would have if she hadn’t been adamant not to disclose the name of her baby-daddy. Only way to protect her is to give her my name. Doesn’t matter I’m old enough to be her father. When I find out her secrets, and the reason she’d behaved so badly, I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her feel safe… even if it means burying a few men. I already have blood on my hands. What’s a little more?
WARNING: Slash’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers.
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.
“Her characters are phenomenal and have a lot of depth to them. She is absolutely fantastic at writing an engaging sexy story. Harley Wylde keeps the words flowing so that you have to turn the page to see what happens next.”
— All Author
Enter the giveaway for a chance to win a FREE copy of Dingo (Devil’s Fury MC #1)
Farrah — I’ve spent my entire life at the Dixie Reapers MC compound — one of the perks of being the VP’s daughter. Except it’s suffocating. Leaving to start a life of my own was the only solution. I knew what it would mean if I went to the Devil’s Fury MC compound, even more so to flirt with their Sergeant-at-Arms. Getting involved would ruin the little bit of freedom I’ve found. Then I ended up in the man’s bed. Leave it to me to find trouble around every corner. My daddy is going to be so pissed, especially when I run from Demon, get snatched off the streets, and shoved into a trunk. I’m not winning at the adulting thing.
Demon — She was a one-night stand. Until the condom broke. Then I found out she’d lied to me. The hot little number in my bed wasn’t just any woman, she was the daughter of a Dixie Reaper. Maybe I shouldn’t have barked orders at her, or spanked her. Feisty little Farrah ran, pissing me off even more. When she disappeared and I realized trouble had found her, I knew I’d do whatever it took to make sure she was safe. Only after I had her back did I realize she was f**king perfect for me. Watching her handle the club wh*res was hot as hell, and she didn’t take sh*t off anyone.
I’ll make her mine — permanently.
WARNING: Demon’s book contains graphic violence and sex, bondage, spanking, bad language, and scenes that may be difficult for some readers. But it also has a heroic dog and a man who will move heaven and earth to protect the feisty, smart-mouthed woman he loves. There’s no cliffhanger and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
The music blasting from the speakers in the ceiling pounded against my skull like a sledgehammer. Maybe I was getting too old for this shit. Forty-three didn’t sound ancient until I got around the younger generation at the clubhouse. Partying had lost its appeal over the last few years. Watching my brothers settle down had caused a strange twinge in my chest, an ache I absently rubbed. I hadn’t been serious about a woman in a while. I’d thought one of the little señoritas staying at the compound could be something special, but it hadn’t worked out. She’d since moved on, along with the others. Except the younger ones.
Glancing around the room, it seemed far emptier than before. Even the Pres wasn’t here tonight. Now he had three little chicks under his roof and had turned into a ferocious papa bear. I hadn’t seen him walk off with any of the club whores, ever, but at least he’d come to drink and hang with the brothers. Since those girls came to stay here, we’d seen less and less of him on nights like this. Couldn’t blame him.
Starla, one of the newer club whores, sashayed over. Her red lips were slicked to a high shine and her eyes had been rimmed in black. There’d been a time I might have been tempted by the sway of her hips, the come-hither look on her face. Now she just came across as desperate. She moved closer, her perfume nearly suffocating me, as she trailed her nails up my arm and across my shoulder.
“Looks like you could use some company,” she said, settling on my lap.
Part of me wanted to shove her off, but all she’d done was make my headache worse. No harm in letting her sit for a minute. Her hand grazed my chest and headed for my zipper. I closed my fingers around her wrist, halting her progress.
“Not tonight,” I said. Or any night.
Her lip stuck out in what she probably thought was a sexy pout. It didn’t do a damn thing for me. When I released her, I gave her a nudge off my lap until she stood next to me. As the Sergeant-at-Arms, and single, the club whores tended to flock my way, in hopes I’d claim them as my old lady. Never would happen, but it didn’t stop them from trying.
The doors to the clubhouse swung open and a curvy blonde stepped through. No, not stepped. She sauntered into the room, head high, shoulders back, and gazed at her surroundings as if she owned the place. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lower lip and my cock hardened behind my zipper. A quick sweep of the room told me I wasn’t the only one checking her out, but I’d damn sure be the one balls-deep in her later.
I stood and made my way across the room, my prey in my sights. Stopping close enough I could feel the heat of her body, I waited for her to acknowledge me. When she ignored me, it only made me want her more. Reaching out, I tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze.
“You lost, little girl?” I asked, realizing she was far younger than I’d thought. No way she’d gotten past the Prospect at the gate if she wasn’t at least eighteen, but she was still young enough to be my daughter. No fucking way she was a day over twenty-five, if that.
“No, I’m not lost. You’re in my way.”
Oh, I liked the sass on this one. I smiled and placed my hand at her waist, tugging her closer. “Your way? Did you get a good look when you came in? Pretty little things like you only have one place in this clubhouse. On your knees or bent over a table.”
A flush worked its way up her neck and settled in her cheeks. Her eyes darkened and her pulse fluttered. Seemed she liked the idea. The way her dress hugged her body, it left little to the imagination, but I still would prefer to have her naked and spread out so I could feast on her. Only one problem. I didn’t have a room at the clubhouse anymore and I didn’t take random women back to my house.
“Maybe this isn’t my first time seeing this sort of thing,” she said. “You may not have seen me here before, but it doesn’t mean I’m stupid when it comes to bikers. I know more than you think.”
I stepped back and scanned her. “No property cut. No ink claiming you as an old lady. You making the rounds? Whatever club you came from, I promise to treat you better.”
“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” she asked, but I noticed she leaned a little closer.
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s gonna be full of me.”
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.
BRISTOL – When I met Torque, I didn’t expect more than a steamy one-night stand from the sexy-as-hell biker. His bedroom eyes. His wicked smile. His sinful body. I couldn’t resist him. It was only supposed to be one time. He didn’t do repeats, and I wasn’t looking for more. Until our night together had consequences – the kind that lasts eighteen years. Torque might be phenomenal between the sheets, but I wasn’t too sure the bad boy biker was daddy material.
TORQUE – The hot blonde with the lush curves and naughty mouth had given me a wild, wicked ride. A man could drown in her seductive eyes, but I never go back for seconds, no matter how tempting Bristol might be. Then she storms back into my life with news that sends me off kilter. I hadn’t planned to keep her, but now that she’s having my kid, there’s no way I’m letting her go. She’ll be mine whether she likes it or not.
*WARNING: This book is recommended for ages 18+ due to sexual content, strong language, and darker undertones.
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also available in paperback and large print paperback
The biker at the bar had held my attention since I’d walked through the door. There was a group of bikers, all wearing the colors of the Wicked Mayhem MC. Whispers around town said they were dangerous, and many gave them a wide berth. I’d always loved the thrill of a bit of danger, or rather dangerous men. The one on the end was captivating, a stark contrast to the blond man on his right, his swarthy skin and dark hair made my fingers itch to touch him. I hadn’t seen a sexier man before, not even on the covers of books.
I held back, watching as other women approached. Each was sent on their way, and none too gently. Mr. Sexy shook off a desperate looking redhead, a sneer on his lips. All right. The direct approach wouldn’t work with this one. Either he wasn’t here for a good time, or he didn’t like clingy women. I adjusted the top of my dress, so the girls were on display, then sauntered over to the bar, being sure to press against his side. Before he could send me on my way, I leaned over and lifted my hand.
“Bartender! I need a drink.” The man shifted, his arm brushing my nipples. I turned my gaze to him, trying to look surprised. “I’m so sorry. It’s just so crowded. I didn’t mean to practically crawl into your lap.”
His gaze skimmed over me, stopping to take in the swells of my breasts. He shifted again, turning to face me a bit more. Before I could step back, he’d pulled me between his legs, my back to his chest.
“If you want his attention so badly, you could tug that dress down a little more.” His voice was deep and raspy, sending chills down my spine.
“I wanted a drink. I wasn’t offering a lap dance.”
His fingers skimmed up my thigh and toyed with the hem of my body-hugging dress. “Wearing something like this? You seem to be offering more than just that. Makes a man think maybe you’re what’s on the menu for tonight. That it, babe? Want me to lift this scrap of fabric and fuck you right here and now?”
I gasped, but it wasn’t in outrage. No, his words were setting me on fire. I’d always loved a man who could talk dirty, and I had a feeling this biker bad boy could back those words up with his actions. He didn’t seem like the type who would be shy about whipping out his dick in the middle of a crowded bar or club.
He turned us that my belly was to the bar, but I was still firmly pressed to the front of him. He slid his hand around my hip, under the edge of the bar and out of sight. I felt his fingers sliding up my inner thigh and my heart started to hammer in my chest.
“I’m betting a woman like you came here without panties on. Were you a naughty girl and came out nearly naked?” he asked.
I tipped my head back and bucked against his hand. “Why don’t you find out?”
Even if I haven’t claimed her yet, she is mine, and I always protect what’s mine.
Cinder (Devil’s Boneyard MC 5):
Meg: Cinder, the President of Devil’s Boneyard, makes me feel safe, and that’s something I haven’t felt in forever. I know one kiss will never be enough.
Cinder: A threat to my club has Meg under my roof. Even if I haven’t claimed her, Meg is mine, and I always protect what’s mine.
Cowboy (A Bad Boy Romance 4):
Jacey: Marrying Beck was a mistake, but I can’t leave the kids vulnerable to a monster like him. But now I have Ty… he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man, and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to walk away.
Ty: I’ve wanted Jacey Lane since the day I first saw her, and knowing her husband abuses her just infuriates me. Ty the cowboy might not be able to do much of anything, but Cowboy the Dixie Reaper sure as hell can.
WARNING: Please be advised there are mentions of human trafficking as well as domestic and sexual abuse and violence that may be triggers for some readers.
After cleaning myself and the desk up, I tossed the tissues into the trash and shoved my chair back. I rose to my feet, fastened my pants, and decided enough was enough. The way she was affecting me today, I knew I’d be hard again within an hour, and I had too much shit to do to keep jerking off. I went through the house to the kitchen, where she’d dumped the laundry all over the table and seemed to be matching socks. Her hips swayed back and forth as she belted out the lyrics to whatever pop song was stuck in her head this time.
“Is all that fucking racket really necessary?” I asked, my tone a bit harsher than I’d intended.
She gasped, her hand at her throat as she spun to face me. Her wide, frightened eyes made me feel like a complete shit, but I could only handle so much. I needed her gone. Not just from my house, but from the compound. I just hadn’t figured out how to make that happen yet. I couldn’t exactly toss her out without anywhere to go or a way to take care of herself. I wasn’t that big a monster, but she was too fucking tempting.
“I can’t work with you singing at the top of your lungs,” I said. “I need to get the week’s numbers to Shade by end of the day so he can pay everyone, and it requires concentration.”
“I’m s-sorry, Cinder. I didn’t mean to keep you from working.” She glanced at the table full of laundry. “I can come back and finish this later. I was going to make lasagna for dinner with garlic bread, and I can always fold this stuff while it’s cooking.”
I ran a hand down my face, not sure how to make this clear to her without making her cry. “Meg, I appreciate you helping around here, and that you seem hell-bent on fattening me up, but I’m a grown-ass man and can take care of myself.”
“Right,” she said softly, her hands wringing in front of her. “I’ll just go, then. Sorry about the mess.”
She couldn’t quite hide the flash of pain in her eyes before she hurried out of the kitchen. A moment later, I heard the front door shut. I stared at the pile of laundry and wondered how asking for some quiet in my own fucking house could make me feel like such a bad man. It wasn’t like she was my fucking wife. I’d given her a place to stay, but it seemed she was always under my damn feet.
I went over to the table and swept the laundry back into the basket, then carried it to my room and dropped it on the bed. I’d fold the shit later and put it away. I couldn’t help but notice she’d made the damn bed already, with military precision at that. She’d been a quick study of how I liked to keep things, and made sure everything was perfect. Too perfect, if my closet was anything to go by. I had to wonder if she wasn’t a bit OCD.
Now that there was peace in the house, I could focus on the fucking reports and make sure my men were all paid. We’d sold a truck full of guns and ammo to some ex-military men I knew who had become vigilantes. Since they didn’t harm innocents, I didn’t mind doing business with them. Even the drugs we sold never made it into the hands of kids. I made damn sure of that. Anyone who bought from us knew better than to pull that shit, or they’d end up with a bullet between their eyes. These days we only dealt in pot, but I didn’t want to hear about some fifteen-year-old getting high off the stuff we grew and killing themselves or someone else.
I’d scaled back quite a bit on our illegal dealings, for the most part. We still had the chop shop and had opened a second one outside of town. The marijuana pulled in a small profit, and the guns were a nice bonus. When Scratch had discovered his daughter was alive, and he was going to be a grandpa, I’d pulled back from the heavier stuff. Didn’t want any of that blowing back on my VP’s family. Shade had said he could invest some of the club funds and double our profits, so I’d given him a few hundred grand to play with. Now he was investing over half a million on a monthly basis thanks to the nest egg those initial profits had brought in.
We’d never be completely legit, and I was fine with that, but I also didn’t want the law breathing down our necks and chance any of the men with families getting locked up. It was my job to protect everyone in the Devil’s Boneyard, down to the smallest kid. If that meant fewer illegal dealings, then so be it. I still took the odd job from the government as well, but the older I got, the less they called on me. Couldn’t blame them. I was still sharp, still had perfect vision, but I was getting old compared to the eighteen-year-olds they were recruiting.
I’d just finished the week’s numbers and stuffed everything in a folder for Shade when my doorbell rang. I rubbed my eyes and hoped like hell Meg wasn’t on my doorstep. I needed to get laid, and soon, if I was going to keep having her underfoot. I shoved my chair back and went to see who the fuck was bothering me. When I jerked open the door I saw Jordan with her two-year-old daughter, Lanie.
“Jordan, everything okay?” I asked.
She glared at me, her lips a thin line of displeasure and her eyes snapping with fire. I didn’t know who had pissed her off, but I had a feeling my afternoon just became incredibly busy. She was perfect for Havoc, but a general pain in my ass.
“Meg is crying and packing her shit,” Jordan said.
My heart stuttered in my chest. “What do you mean she’s packing? To go where?”
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to drive Meg away completely, just out of my fucking house. Life was so much easier when I only had to deal with club sluts at the clubhouse. Adding women to the family just complicated shit and added drama I didn’t need.
“I never told her she had to leave the compound,” I said.
“No, just your damn house.” I heard Jordan’s jaw crack she was so damn angry. “If you don’t fix this shit, I’m going to leave Lanie with you. For an entire week.”
The demon spawn in her arms gave me a grin that I wasn’t about to admit scared the shit out of me. I didn’t do kids, especially not this kid. Loved Havoc, and Jordan for the most part, but their kid was damn frightening. Anyone else who spoke to me like this would have met my fist, but Jordan was a woman and I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Not to mention, if I upset her, then she’d make it hell on Havoc, and the last thing I needed was my Sergeant at Arms being pissed at the world because his wife was being a bitch, even though that seemed to be Jordan’s default setting.
“I’ll go talk to Meg,” I said.
My phone started ringing in my pocket and I pulled it out, noting CJ’s name on the screen. Jordan’s brother was a pain just like his damn sister, and I had serious doubts he’d ever be allowed to patch in, even if he hadn’t been fucking up as much lately.
“What?” I demanded as I answered.
“Uh, Pres, Meg is at the gate wanting to leave. Alone. With a bag in her hand. On foot.”
I closed my eyes and counted to twenty. “Keep her there. Don’t open that fucking gate for anything.”
Maxine, a trans male-to-female werewolf, is struggling to get beyond her grief over the losses she suffered in her past. Now her mate, Sonya, is pregnant. When Maxine’s ghosts rise to break the new lovers apart, they have more help than they need from her pack.
Sonya’s starting to wonder whether Maxine’s loyalties lie with the wolf pack she’s been with for decades, or with her new mate. It’s beginning to look like sabotage from all quarters. How can a new couple stay together, especially with pups on the way?
Sonya Johnson stared at her clean pad, scowling at its whiteness against the cocoa dark of her thigh and the pale mauve of her panties. Her period should have started four days ago. Granted, she’d stopped taking her birth control after she’d forgotten to take it for three days back in late September. But was it too much to ask that her slip wouldn’t bring on pregnancy? She was a damned doctoral student and working a full-time job.
“Please, God,” she whispered. “Let it just be late. I do not have time for this right now.”
She shivered as a blast of air conditioning rushed across the back of her neck. Maybe it was time to grow her hair out and screw the cuteness of her current kinky-haired bob.
I’m a medical technician. I know enough about the human body to get this message: either stress is delaying my menstrual cycle, or I’m pregnant.
She cursed her mate before she could stop herself.
Sonya sighed, flushed the toilet, and pulled up her panties and shorts. It wasn’t Maxine’s fault, even if she was a trans werewolf and still had a dick. They’d both thought Sonya’s pill would take care of things. They’d briefly discussed using condoms too, but Sonya privately thought at the time that that was overkill. Maxine liked teasing herself with a condom now and then, but as a form of birth control, they were weren’t all that reliable.
They only succeed sixty percent of the time… but maybe I should have banked on that extra sixty percent.
She made an exasperated noise, very quietly.
The only thing that is Maxine’s fault, partially at least, is how infrequently I see her.
She’d long ago stopped tripping over the idea of calling Maxine, a male-to-female transgender werewolf, “she.” Not even thinking of her mate’s cock, as she did often while masturbating, could cause her confusion. Maxine was so utterly female, mind and spirit, that male genitals couldn’t change her essential nature.
Sonya walked into the bedroom she and her mate shared and went to her side of the wall-length closet. She took off the striped shirt she’d been wearing and put on a sweater with a cowl neck. It was a soft orange that complemented her medium brown skin tone and had the added bonus of clinging to her curves in all the right places.
Too bad Maxine isn’t here to appreciate it. She sighed noisily and then covered her mouth and glanced around, almost expecting half a dozen werewolves to pop out of the woodwork and ask her what was wrong. She kept her SearchLight-won shields in place most of the time, and her lips shut almost as much, but she still felt as if the whole darn pack could read her like a book.
Those shields were something she’d picked up at the academy in DC, learning them from the parapsychology teacher. She didn’t use them much at work, at least not when she was relaxed and in her own domain — the medtech department. But with all the psychic powers boasted by the members of her new eros pack, she felt on edge if her mind wasn’t guarded.
Shaking her head, grimacing as she thought of how paranoid she’d gotten over the past two weeks, Sonya headed into the living room to sit at the desk Maxine had bought her as a mating ceremony present back in late September. It was now the first week of October and she did not need to be worrying about pregnancy when her first dissertation defense was happening in less than seven days and she hadn’t seen her mate for more than a few minutes at a time since they consummated their relationship.
And while that was the worst of it, not being with her mate, her third problem was almost as pressing: three of the werewolves in her new pack were openly hostile toward her. Oh, not where Maxine, who outranked all of them, could see, but whenever they caught Sonya alone…
Oh, stop thinking about it all in such negative terms. They’re just pests. And as for Maxine, she sleeps here every night she’s in town, doesn’t she? You’ve made love four times so far. That’s good for two weeks’ worth of living together, isn’t it?
Well, actually, no. Sonya had gotten the impression from listening to her friend, Luke, talk about his early relationship with his husband that sex every day wasn’t uncommon. In fact, the only time her genie and dragon friends hadn’t managed sex at least three or four times a week was when Mark, the dragon half of the pairing, was in crisis.
Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender erotica. Seeking a world made of equality, she created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires.
Violeta — It’s been a year since I was brought to the US and given to Rocket. I’d thought he was like the others and would only cause me pain. I was wrong. Rocket is the kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met. I arrived an abused, pregnant teen. Now I’m a more confident woman, and I have Rocket to thank. Falling in love with him was inevitable, but now I need him to see me as a desirable woman and not a girl who needs his protection.
Rocket — The young girl who came to live with me was more broken than I’d realized. The horrors she faced have made her stronger, but it didn’t happen overnight. It’s hard not to watch her, to want her. I shouldn’t. I’m too damn old for an eighteen-year-old woman. She’s not as fragile, physically and emotionally, but I can’t shut off the protector inside me that wants to shelter her and keep her safe. When she’s taken, I know that the men responsible will die. I only hope that side of me doesn’t scare my sweet Vi, but nothing will stop me from spilling their blood. I just don’t know if we can end the war before it starts, or if this will only be the beginning. I’ll keep her safe, no matter the cost, because she’s mine whether she knows it or not.
WARNING: This book contains violence, strong language, explicit sex scenes, and an abused woman. But it also has a biker who will protect the woman he loves, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
“This is such a great book. I love it! Violeta has blossomed… Rocket is perfect for her. He worships her, and that’s just what she needs. I love interconnected series like Miss Wylde writes, it makes the books even better to me. There are also quite a few little nuggets about a character whose story has yet to be told. I could have read at least 25 more chapters.”
My hands trembled and my stomach felt like it was flipping and knotting up all at the same time. It was no secret my father didn’t love me, but I’d never dreamed he’d ship me off to a new country. Even though my sisters had been given away as well, our middle sister, Sofia, wouldn’t be with us. She’d been given to a different group of men, and I worried what would happen to her. Our life had been far from easy, but at least we’d always had each other.
I fought not to look at Luciana as I descended the steps of the jet. She couldn’t protect me, never could. But as the eldest, she’d always done her best to watch over us, and we’d looked up to her. Nothing could save us from our father or his men, but since we’d lost our mother when we were younger, it had made us all closer. I could hear her coming down the steps of the plane and I hastened closer to the group of men who would now decide my fate.
“You’re going to stay with Rocket,” an older man said. The writing on his black leather vest said Spider — President Hades Abyss MC. I’d heard that Luciana was to go with this man, and I hoped he’d be kind to her, but there was a resentment in his eyes that didn’t bode well for any of us.
My heart hammered in my chest as a tall, blond man lumbered toward me. It took every bit of strength I had not to turn around and run. As his hand closed over my arm, I took a breath to steady my nerves. I could do this. It was just like all the other times. Being in a different country didn’t matter. Though his grip was firm, it wasn’t overly tight and he wasn’t hurting me. Already that was progress over the men I’d known in my past.
“I’ll be good to you,” I said softly.
The blond man looked confused a moment, shared a look with the man called Spider, then gave my arm a slight tug. I followed him to a motorcycle that was all black and chrome. I didn’t know anything about them, nor did I know how to sit on one. He huffed, sounding exasperated, then lifted me and settled me on the seat. His hands pressed against my waist sent a strange feeling through me and my gaze jerked to his face, but he seemed oblivious to whatever I’d just felt.
Rocket climbed on in front of me and when I didn’t move, he gave a soft growl before reaching back and gripping my hands, then placed them on the leather of his vest. I let my hands settle there, lightly, not really understanding.
“Hold on or you’ll fall off.”
I held him loosely, scared that I would offend him and earn myself a punishment right away, but as the bike rumbled to life and shot forward, I squealed and tightened my grip, fisting the material. The wind whipped through my hair, and the bike vibrated under me. Had I not been terrified about what awaited me, I might have enjoyed the ride. There was a certain freedom to being on the back of his bike. By the time Rocket slowed the machine, I found myself wishing we could keep riding.
I didn’t know where we were going, didn’t really understand what was happening. I only knew the man called Casper VanHorne had brokered some sort of deal between my father and the bikers, and I’d only gleaned that from what little I’d heard discussed between the two men. My father had told us to do as we were told and not anger the men. Each of us knew exactly what that meant. We were to be his perfect little whores or suffer the consequences. A numbness filled me and I knew that I would never escape my fate.
A large gate slid open and Rocket pulled through, taking the bike down the road past homes. I wondered if it was similar to the compound my father had, just a more rustic version. In Colombia, we were protected by high brick walls and lots of armed guards. My father’s home was a mansion, easily big enough to house several families. Here I just saw miles of chain-link fencing with that sharp wire on top of it and modest homes.
Rocket came to a stop in the carport next to a small house. It was cute, and under other circumstances, I might have been enchanted by it. Instead, I knew what waited inside for me. The same abuse I’d suffered for years. I got off the bike, my legs unsteady, and I wobbled a moment. Rocket shut off the machine before standing. He gave a slight nod of his head for me to follow him. I tried to calm the rioting swarm of angry wasps in my stomach as I stepped through the front door of my new home.
I didn’t know how long I’d remain with Rocket. I’d seen quite a few bikes at the airstrip, and there were even more homes here. How long before he passed me to someone else? My father had made sure I understood none of these men had women in their lives. It was up to me and Luciana to keep them satisfied, no matter what they wanted from us.
The door shutting made me feel as if I were being sealed in a tomb. My fingers trembled as I worked the buttons on my top and then shrugged it off. The atmosphere seemed to change, and I looked over my shoulder to see Rocket frozen in place, his eyes comically wide.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I’ll be good,” I said, shoving my shorts down my legs. “I know my place.”
“What? I…”
I reached for the clasp on my bra and as the scrap of cotton fell to the floor, Rocket made a strange noise and bolted from the room. I blinked and stared, not sure what had just happened. I finished undressing and went after him, thinking that maybe I’d messed up and I was supposed to wait until we were in a different room. The door at the end of the hall was closed and when I tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t budge.
“Did I do it wrong? Was I supposed to wait until we were somewhere else?” I asked through the door.
Panic started to well inside me. I’d already messed up. I’d upset him, and now I’d have to pay. A whimper escaped my lips as I sank to the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs. I rocked back and forth, terrified over what I’d be forced to endure to make amends. White noise filled my ears and my vision tunneled until all I could see were scenes from my past. My father’s men and the things they’d done to me.
Hands gripped my arms and I screamed, but I’d learned the hard way not to fight. I hung limp, unseeing, and lost in the past. Words were murmured in my ear, but I couldn’t make sense of them. My back landed against cool sheets, and then a blanket was drawn over me. A large hand smoothed my hair from my face and I blinked rapidly.
The past faded and I saw Rocket leaning over me, concern etched on his features. “Easy, Violeta. No one will hurt you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop the words, repeating them over and over, hoping he’d forgive this one transgression.
Rocket backed away and then left the room. I waited, wondering if he would bring something back, one of those prods my father’s men used to shock me, or something worse. Instead, he set my clothes on the dresser and stepped into the hall. He pointed at the door and the doorframe.
“This is your space. Yours and only yours. No one is permitted in this room without your permission, including me,” he said. “You’re safe, Violeta.”
Safe? There was no such thing as safe. I was certain he was playing a trick on me, lulling me into a false sense of security so that it would be more traumatic when he showed his true colors. I wouldn’t be fooled. Not again.
Rocket stared at me a moment before muttering a curse and stomping off down the hall. I heard the front door open and slam shut, my body tense and waiting for whatever would come next. I waited for what felt like forever, but he didn’t return.
Eventually, I curled onto my side and let the tears fall. I hadn’t cried in so long. Tears had never solved anything. My chest ached and my throat hurt by the time I’d shed my last tear. I didn’t know what to make of this strange new life, or the man I now belonged to. Nothing made sense anymore.
Whatever I’d done to upset him, I’d fix it. I had to. It was no longer just me that I had to worry about. I placed a hand over my belly.
“I’ll keep you safe,” I promised the child growing there. I only hoped I wasn’t lying to the both of us.
Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is 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.
When I lost my family I closed off my heart and vowed to never let another woman in. Then the most tempting woman I’ve ever met gave me a night I knew I’d always remember. When she turns up two months later, she knocks me on my ass when she tells me she’s pregnant. With my kid. I don’t know that I believe in a higher power anymore, but maybe it’s time I start praying again. Because giving this woman everything she needs, being the man she deserves, is going to take one hell of a miracle.
Ryker (Roosters 2)
After 20 years in the military, I find myself doing my dad’s dirty work as the “prince” of the Hades Abyss MC, it’s expected of me. Doing a little recon in a small Alabama town should have been boring as shit, until the hot little minx I met at a bar turned my life upside down. If I’d known she was a virgin, I might have backed away, but now that I’ve had a taste I just want to keep coming back for more. Little did I realize that I’d just fucked the sister of a Dixie Reaper…
Badger (Roosters 5, with Paige Warren)
I went to prison for ten years after beating a man to death. He deserved it — I only wish he’d suffered more. Now I’m free, and the little girl I once saved is now a tempting young woman with curves in all the right places. She’s also the adopted daughter of my Pres. I should stay away, far away, but I’m drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? I’m a longtime repeat offender. I can’t walk the straight and narrow. Can I? When I found out she’s pregnant, I know there’s nowhere to hide from the president of the Devil’s Fury MC.
“Oh, he’ll be surprised all right. He’s inside,” the prospect said, tipping his head toward the clubhouse. “But then, you aren’t allowed in there are you? Too pristine for a place like that.”
“I’m not pristine,” I snapped.
I might be a virgin in the strictest sense, but I was far from angelic. I’d never technically had sex, even though I’d given a few blow jobs and fooled around, but I’d used my trusty vibrator to take care of my virginity. I’d heard it would hurt, and no way was I trusting a guy with something like that. Especially not since the guys I knew were selfish and fumbling. No finesse whatsoever.
“Just remember that you were warned.” The gate slid open, and he motioned toward the clubhouse. “Enter at your own risk.”
That sounded like something the creepy guy in horror movies says right before the heroine does something incredibly stupid, like enter a house full of mass murderers, or choose the darkened pathway filled with deformed, dying trees instead of the brightly lit path. This was just a clubhouse full of bikers, one of whom was my brother. How bad could it be?
I stepped through the gate and made my way across the lot to the building with Dixie Reapers across the top in neon, and slowly climbed the steps. The noise from inside was even louder now, and I pushed open the doors, not sure what to expect. The way my brother talked, I half-expected naked women and orgies going on out in the open. My gaze scanned the room, but I didn’t see my brother — or any orgies. The place was packed wall-to-wall with men and women in leather cuts with Dixie Reapers stitched across the back. Other than some smoking and drinking, I didn’t see anything wild going on. Not that those things were wild, but to hear Johnny tell it, all kinds of shit went down in here. They just looked like your average group of adults having a nice time.
No one paid me any attention as I moved farther into the room, but the fact I was the only one not sporting one of those leather cuts made me feel a little out of place. At least I’d worn my black top and not the red one I’d picked up first. Still, I didn’t exactly blend, even if some of the women present looked to be my age or close to it. I’d learned enough from Johnny to guess those were the old ladies. He seemed rather fond of the President’s woman, and I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to meet her. To hear Johnny tell it, the woman was up for sainthood. I didn’t think anyone could ever be that perfect.
At the end of the bar, a man sat alone, a line of shot glasses in front of him, and an old worn Bible nearby. I hadn’t taken the club for being religious, but then this man didn’t seem quite like the others. He wore the same cut as everyone else, but as I studied him, I realized he was more somber. There was almost a haunted look to him, as if he were trying to drown his demons in whiskey, or whatever he was drinking. I felt this pull, as if I were supposed to get closer to him.
Slowly, I made my way across the room and slid onto the stool next to his. He didn’t even so much as glance my way, but I could tell from the way his mouth tensed that he was more than aware of my presence, and didn’t seem to care for it. I didn’t know what he was trying to run from, and it was honestly none of my business, but I’d found that sometimes people just needed to be reminded they weren’t as alone as they thought. Despite the fact the room was full of people, not a single one had come to sit by him. Maybe he’d chased them off, or maybe they left him alone because of the vibe he was putting out. Neither was going to deter me. Someone as sexy as he shouldn’t be drowning their sorrows. Not alone anyway.
The guy behind the bar came over, a swagger to his step and a cocky smile on his face. His cut said Prospect, but thankfully he wasn’t someone I knew. The minute my brother found out I was here, he’d likely escort me back to the gate and send me home, which was the last place I wanted to be.
The guy leaned on the bar, his arms folded so that his biceps bulged. I assumed I was supposed to be impressed, but he looked just like every other asshole in my neighborhood who wanted in my pants. Not happening, buddy.
“What can I get for you, beautiful?” he asked, his lips tipping up on one side in a way I supposed most would find sexy. It wasn’t making me drop my panties, that was for sure. I was completely immune to guys like this one.
“Rum and Coke,” I said.
The guy next to me snorted.
“What?” I asked, turning my attention his way.
When his gaze clashed with mine, the breath in my lungs froze. Dark hair and a close-cropped beard were sexy enough, but damn… The man’s eyes were truly things of beauty. I saw blues, greens, golds. Maybe even a hint of gray. Those were the kind of eyes a woman could get lost in, the kind of eyes that would make her do something really stupid.
“You ever actually had a rum and Coke?” he asked, his voice deep and smooth.
“Maybe.”
He smiled a little. Not a full-out smile, and not even a smirk. It was almost like his lips had turned up without his permission because it was gone almost as fast as it happened.
“Why don’t you give her a Sex on the Beach?” the guy next to me said.
The Prospect leered at me. “Oh, I’d be delighted.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Just the drink, thanks.”
I could tell he wanted to say something, but he refrained, walking off to fix my drink. I focused on the guy sitting next to me again, and noticed his cut said Preacher…
Praise for Preacher (Dixie Reapers MC 5)
“I love that Kayla’s kind heart did more for Preacher than even he knew. I loved that Ms. Wylde made this character someone who could give solace even as she knew it would go no further…or could it? I loved meeting Preacher and Kayla. Their beginning may have started with pain but I love how they still found a way. I thoroughly enjoyed this addition to this series and look forward to Ms. Wylde returning to this world she has created.”
— Titania, Manic Readers Review
Praise for Ryker (Roosters, Dixie Reapers MC)
“This was a wonderful roller-coaster of emotion and struggle sprinkled with the love that you can only read about when you get deep into the Dixie reapers world. I absolutely adore this book and the author that wrote it.”
Short. Erotic. Sweet. Harley’s other half would probably say those words describe her, but they also describe her books. When Harley is 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.
Three aliens intent on finding their mates. Three human women willing to risk everything for a chance at happiness…
Charlotte and the Alien Ambassador: When her father demands she take her sister’s place in a bride exchange on another world, Charlotte decides to embrace her future. She knows it’s her last chance to find happiness, and she’ll do anything to grab it with both hands. The ethereal woman who steps off the shuttle holds Borgoz spellbound. She’s everything he’s ever wanted, and the one thing he can never have.
Hazel and the Alien Biker: Kicked off his home world after losing his mate, Reyvor has made a place for himself on Earth, spending his nights cruising the streets on his Harley. But a commotion outside his motel room just may turn out to be his saving grace. Hazel is hesitant to trust anyone again, but Reyvor is determined to make her his. What’s an alien to do when all he wants is a loving family to call his own? He’ll break down her defenses one by one, until she melts against him and begs for his kiss. Can he claim the feisty Hazel and her three little girls without completely losing his heart?
Jacie and the Alien Bodyguard: Stupid. Careless. Jacie has called herself ten times a fool. Now she’s pregnant and alone. When a tall, sexy hunk of alien male meets her at the shuttle station on his world, Jacie feels the stirrings of desire — even though that’s what got her into this mess in the first place. But there’s something about Barimere that’s different, and she doesn’t mean the scars on his face.
An alien warrior intent on fighting his attraction. A human female determined to bring him to his knees. What could possibly go wrong?
She nodded. “Why can I understand you and not anyone else?”
“I, along with quite a few other males on this planet, have learned your Earth English. However, to make sure you can understand everyone around you, I’m going to implant you with a translator. I’ll also implant you with a sensor that will allow you to make purchases on our world. When you select a mate, he will pay for whatever you buy between now and then. Once your mating is approved, you’ll be added to his accounts everywhere in Terran Prime.”
“Thank you for explaining how everything works. I’ve been a little lost.”
He frowned. “May I ask a personal question?”
She nodded.
“Your voice is different from anyone else I’ve encountered from Earth. Are you from a special region?”
“I’m deaf.” She pointed to her hearing aids. “These allow me to hear a little, but it’s like listening to someone talk under water. I don’t always catch everything. And, while it allows me to hear a little, I can’t always tell how loud I’m speaking.”
“Understood. Perhaps, after you’ve found a mate, they will permit me to run some tests and see if we can restore your hearing.”
“I was born deaf. My mother had preeclampsia when she was pregnant with me, and I was born early. Some of the bones inside my ear didn’t form correctly. A doctor tried to explain it to me once, but I didn’t understand the terms he used.”
The doctor nodded. “Well, we’ll take care of those implants today and if you decide you wish me to run tests later, then that’s what we’ll do.”
She meekly followed the doctor into a back room and stretched out on the table at his direction. He explained the procedure to her before giving her some gas to put her to sleep. When next she woke, her wrist and the back of her ear hurt a little, but otherwise she couldn’t tell she’d had anything done.
Charlotte found the other male pacing in the lobby.
“Can you understand me now?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I have a translator, so I understood everything you told the doctor. You’re not Charity Mayweather, are you?”
“Charity is my younger sister.”
The Terran’s face flushed with anger. “Your father lied to me. He said he was sending Charity here to find a husband, not her deaf older sister.”
She felt shame burn through her as she realized she was about to be cast aside again. Charlotte knew she should be accustomed to it by now but it still hurt, knowing she wasn’t good enough for yet one more man.
“If you send me back to Earth, I’ll be homeless,” she said. “My father said if I didn’t come here and find a husband, I would be thrown out of the house and all my accounts would be closed.”
The Terran muttered something, raked a hand through his waist-length hair, and then faced her with his hands on his hips. “I’m Chief Councilor Borgoz and you’ll be staying in my home. You may not be the sister I was expecting, but I’m not about to leave you stranded here. Especially with your condition.”
“I’m deaf, not stupid.”
The harshness of his face relaxed into an apologetic look. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were stupid, but there are many dangers on a new world for anyone, much less someone who can’t hear. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted or as if you were a burden.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time in my life I’ve felt that way.”
His gaze narrowed. “Your father made you feel unwanted?”
“And my sister. Be thankful she didn’t come in my place. She’s a spoiled, selfish brat who always has to get her way or she screams and throws things.” It felt good to be honest about her sister without fear of being punished. Everyone always treated Charity as if she was a princess, and Charlotte was tired of it.
“Right. Well, let’s get you settled. I’m sure you’ll want more things than what you brought with you. Once you’ve had a chance to put your belongings away, I’ll take you shopping for anything you had to leave behind.”
“I don’t need much. As long as you have something to wash with, I’ll be fine. I have enough clothes to last a week before I’ll have to do laundry.”
“An Earth week is seven days, correct?”
She nodded.
“A Terran week is eleven days. You’ll need more clothes. Things are different here on Terran. We don’t have machines in our homes to launder our clothes, and the shop in town that handles it is usually busy. You’ll want as many outfits as possible.”
He crooked his elbow and she curled her hand around it, watching as he hefted her bag as easily if it contained no more than feathers.
Charlotte tried to take in the scenery as they walked through Terran Prime. Borgoz explained that, while he had a vehicle to maneuver through the city, he thought she might like the walk to stretch her legs after such a long shuttle ride.
When they reached his home, her jaw dropped as she stared at the massive structure. She’d lived in a mansion all her life, but Borgoz’s home surpassed that of her father’s by a fourth floor and probably another twenty feet in width. She tried not to stumble over her feet as he led her up the stairs and into his home. Charlotte looked everywhere, not wanting to miss a thing.
Borgoz handed her bag to another male, and they followed him up the stairs to her room. It was twice the size of her bedroom at home with doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking a garden. It was gorgeous, and for the first time in her life she felt lucky. She was glad her father had sent her here, and had hope that her future would be bright and wonderful.
She turned from the fantastic view to find Borgoz studying her. Charlotte couldn’t guess his age. There were no wrinkles on his face, but the silver in his hair told her he was probably forty at the least. But then, she didn’t know how Terrans aged. For all she knew, he was pushing seventy like the vile old man her father had tried to force her to marry.
Borgoz was a handsome man. His purple eyes were dark like a pansy and quite beautiful. Those eyes were taking her in, and she wondered if he found her lacking like everyone else in her life. If she’d known she was coming to a palace, she may have dressed a little nicer for her trip. She tugged on the hem of her tank and wondered if she should change clothes before going shopping with him. He was being kind enough to give her a place to stay, the least she could do was not embarrass him in front of his people.
“I’ll come back in thirty of your Earth minutes to see if you’ve finished unpacking. If you’re hungry, we can stop for a bite to eat while we’re out and then go shopping. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need. If you can’t find me, Helio will help you,” he said, indicating the other male.
“Thank you.”
Borgoz gave her a regal nod and then he exited with his servant.
Left alone, she quickly unpacked and changed into a pretty sundress so she would be appropriately attired for an outing with someone so important, then she spent the rest of her time admiring the view. Charlotte hoped she’d get a chance to walk through that garden and admire the petals of the vibrant flowers close up. This world was amazing and full of new and wonderful things. She couldn’t wait to explore as much of it as she was allowed.
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Action Adventure, Contemporary, Interracial,
MC Romance, Silver Fox, Single Parent/Pregnancy Romance
Meg – For ten years I suffered at the hands of a monster, bought at auction and forced to be a slave, at the whim of a Columbian drug lord who also ran underground fights. Then the Devil’s Boneyard came to rescue one of their own and I was free. I don’t know who I am anymore, or what my purpose is. I only know one thing. Cinder, the President of Devil’s Boneyard, makes me feel safe and that’s something I haven’t felt in forever. But one kiss and I’m seeing him in a new light, and I know that one kiss will never be enough.
Cinder – Meg’s a sweet girl, a little angel who tends to sing and distract me as she cleans my house. I never said she had to pay for her keep around here, but she insists. She’s easily thirty years my junior, which makes me feel like a sick fuck every time I get hard around her, especially after all she’s suffered. Then I royally fucked up and kissed her. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more, even though I know we’re doomed. A threat to my club, and to Meg, has her under my roof 24/7, and I have no idea how I’ll keep myself from giving into temptation. Whoever leaked her information to The Inferno is going to pay in blood. Even if I haven’t claimed her, Meg is mine, and I always protect what’s mine.
WARNING: Scorching hot sex, a club president who isn’t afraid to inflict some violence on his enemies, and a woman who discovers she’s stronger than she thought. Please be advised there are mentions of physical and sexual abuse, as well as human trafficking of teens, even though nothing is described in detail.
That damn woman was singing again. How the fuck was I supposed to concentrate on club business when she was sashaying all over the damn house belting out whatever song she’d last heard on the radio? All the women from Colombia were re-homed and off living their lives. Then there was Meg. Damn woman refused to leave the compound unless I sent two men with her. She was constantly jumping at shadows, and doing things like organizing my fucking closet by item type and color. Who the fuck did that shit?
When she started the song over, I growled and threw my pen across the room, watching it bounce off the wall and clatter to the floor. No matter how damn annoying I found it, I couldn’t very well go down there and growl at her. I’d tried it once and she’d promptly burst into tears before running from my house. Then I’d felt like an asshole for scaring her. I didn’t know what to do with her. The men gave her a wide berth most of the time, unless she needed something. They were all there in an instant if they thought Meg was having trouble, or needed protection.
She was always cooking for someone or other, cleaning my fucking house, doing my laundry. Hell, she even bought my groceries. I should be thrilled I didn’t have to handle any of that crap anymore, and I might have been, if the woman didn’t make me hard all the damn time. Even now, with her singing the same thing over and over, I was hard as a fucking steel post. I was staring sixty in the eye and Meg couldn’t be more than twenty-five or twenty-six. Young enough to be my daughter, damn near young enough to be my granddaughter. Made me feel like a sick fuck, even though the age difference didn’t seem to bother my VP. He was more than twenty years older than his wife, Clarity, and I’d never seen two people so in love. Except maybe Havoc and that psycho woman of his.
When I’d reached forty and hadn’t found a woman, I’d decided that family shit just wasn’t for me. I hadn’t even touched the club sluts, not in a long-ass time. It had gotten too fucking complicated when I discovered some of them were trying to get pregnant on purpose to trap me and the others in my club. After that, I went on dates here and there with older women in surrounding towns. I hadn’t scratched that itch in probably six months, which might explain why Meg was getting a rise out of my dick all the damn time. Or maybe it was just how sweetly she was curved. I had no doubt she’d be a nice handful if I had her in my bed.
My eye twitched when Meg started her damn song yet again. It wasn’t that the song was annoying so much as it pissed me off that my dick seemed to like her voice a little too much. I unfastened my pants, knowing there was only one way to fix this shit, at least for an hour or two. I pulled open the desk drawer and grabbed the bottle of lube and dragged the box of tissue closer. After squirting a liberal amount of the liquid on my palm, I wrapped my hand around my shaft and started stroking. My eyes slammed shut as her voice carried through the closed door, and I imagined the sounds she’d make as I pounded into her. It only took a few strokes after that for my cum to cover my hand and hit the desk. I groaned as my dick twitched but didn’t completely deflate.
After cleaning myself and the desk up, I tossed the tissues into the trash and shoved my chair back. I rose to my feet, fastened my pants, and decided enough was enough. The way she was affecting me today, I knew I’d be hard again within an hour, and I had too much shit to do to keep jerking off. I went through the house to the kitchen, where she’d dumped the laundry all over the table and seemed to be matching socks. Her hips swayed back and forth as she belted out the lyrics to whatever pop song was stuck in her head this time.
“Is all that fucking racket really necessary?” I asked, my tone a bit harsher than I’d intended.
She gasped, her hand at her throat as she spun to face me. Her wide, frightened eyes made me feel like a complete shit, but I could only handle so much. I needed her gone. Not just from my house, but from the compound. I just hadn’t figured out how to make that happen yet. I couldn’t exactly toss her out without anywhere to go or a way to take care of herself. I wasn’t that big a monster, but she was too fucking tempting.
“I can’t work with you singing at the top of your lungs,” I said. “I need to get the week’s numbers to Shade by end of the day so he can pay everyone, and it requires concentration.”
“I’m s-sorry, Cinder. I didn’t mean to keep you from working.” She glanced at the table full of laundry. “I can come back and finish this later. I was going to make lasagna for dinner with garlic bread, and I can always fold this stuff while it’s cooking.”
I ran a hand down my face, not sure how to make this clear to her without making her cry. “Meg, I appreciate you helping around here, and that you seem hell-bent on fattening me up, but I’m a grown-ass man and can take care of myself.”
“Right,” she said softly, her hands wringing in front of her. “I’ll just go, then. Sorry about the mess.”
She couldn’t quite hide the flash of pain in her eyes before she hurried out of the kitchen. A moment later, I heard the front door shut. I stared at the pile of laundry and wondered how asking for some quiet in my own fucking house could make me feel like such a bad man. It wasn’t like she was my fucking wife. I’d given her a place to stay, but it seemed she was always under my damn feet.
I went over to the table and swept the laundry back into the basket, then carried it to my room and dropped it on the bed. I’d fold the shit later and put it away. I couldn’t help but notice she’d made the damn bed already, with military precision at that. She’d been a quick study of how I liked to keep things, and made sure everything was perfect. Too perfect, if my closet was anything to go by. I had to wonder if she wasn’t a bit OCD.
Now that there was peace in the house, I could focus on the fucking reports and make sure my men were all paid. We’d sold a truck full of guns and ammo to some ex-military men I knew who had become vigilantes. Since they didn’t harm innocents, I didn’t mind doing business with them. Even the drugs we sold never made it into the hands of kids. I made damn sure of that. Anyone who bought from us knew better than to pull that shit, or they’d end up with a bullet between their eyes. These days we only dealt in pot, but I didn’t want to hear about some fifteen-year-old getting high off the stuff we grew and killing themselves or someone else.
I’d scaled back quite a bit on our illegal dealings, for the most part. We still had the chop shop and had opened a second one outside of town. The marijuana pulled in a small profit, and the guns were a nice bonus. When Scratch had discovered his daughter was alive, and he was going to be a grandpa, I’d pulled back from the heavier stuff. Didn’t want any of that blowing back on my VP’s family. Shade had said he could invest some of the club funds and double our profits, so I’d given him a few hundred grand to play with. Now he was investing over half a million on a monthly basis thanks to the nest egg those initial profits had brought in.
We’d never be completely legit, and I was fine with that, but I also didn’t want the law breathing down our necks and chance any of the men with families getting locked up. It was my job to protect everyone in the Devil’s Boneyard, down to the smallest kid. If that meant fewer illegal dealings, then so be it. I still took the odd job from the government as well, but the older I got, the less they called on me. Couldn’t blame them. I was still sharp, still had perfect vision, but I was getting old compared to the eighteen-year-olds they were recruiting.
I’d just finished the week’s numbers and stuffed everything in a folder for Shade when my doorbell rang. I rubbed my eyes and hoped like hell Meg wasn’t on my doorstep. I needed to get laid, and soon, if I was going to keep having her underfoot. I shoved my chair back and went to see who the fuck was bothering me. When I jerked open the door I saw Jordan with her two-year-old daughter, Lanie.
“Jordan, everything okay?” I asked.
She glared at me, her lips a thin line of displeasure and her eyes snapping with fire. I didn’t know who had pissed her off, but I had a feeling my afternoon just became incredibly busy. She was perfect for Havoc, but a general pain in my ass.
“Meg is crying and packing her shit,” Jordan said.
My heart stuttered in my chest. “What do you mean she’s packing? To go where?”
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to drive Meg away completely, just out of my fucking house. Life was so much easier when I only had to deal with club sluts at the clubhouse. Adding women to the family just complicated shit and added drama I didn’t need.
“I never told her she had to leave the compound,” I said.
“No, just your damn house.” I heard Jordan’s jaw crack she was so damn angry. “If you don’t fix this shit, I’m going to leave Lanie with you. For an entire week.”
The demon spawn in her arms gave me a grin that I wasn’t about to admit scared the shit out of me. I didn’t do kids, especially not this kid. Loved Havoc, and Jordan for the most part, but their kid was damn frightening. Anyone else who spoke to me like this would have met my fist, but Jordan was a woman and I wouldn’t lay a hand on her. Not to mention, if I upset her, then she’d make it hell on Havoc, and the last thing I needed was my Sergeant at Arms being pissed at the world because his wife was being a bitch, even though that seemed to be Jordan’s default setting.
“I’ll go talk to Meg,” I said.
My phone started ringing in my pocket and I pulled it out, noting CJ’s name on the screen. Jordan’s brother was a pain just like his damn sister, and I had serious doubts he’d ever be allowed to patch in, even if he hadn’t been fucking up as much lately.
“What?” I demanded as I answered.
“Uh, Pres, Meg is at the gate wanting to leave. Alone. With a bag in her hand. On foot.”
I closed my eyes and counted to twenty. “Keep her there. Don’t open that fucking gate for anything.”
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