EXCERPT
“You know what I think it is?”
“I don’t really care,” I state, but I am curious.
“You want me.” He says it so softly I barely hear him. Glancing in my mirror, he’s looking down, his face unreadable, his tone serious.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I respond curtly, trying to stay resilient. I’ve seen the girls who are associated with his club; he’s a player and is telling me what I want to hear.
He grunts, a smile breaking across his face. “You’re telling me you didn’t like me kissing you the other night? That my hand up your shirt didn’t light a fire in those little panties of yours?” His tone is arrogant. My body responds, my nipples hardening, craving to have his rough touch one more time. Goddamn him, why can’t he shut up?
“I was drunk,” I defend, looking out the windshield.
The car goes quiet, and I’m thankful; his confrontation made me uncomfortable.
“Hey, Rookie?”
“Hmm?” I look in the rearview mirror to see his face. His mouth is parted, the corner of one lip curved slightly as he looks downward.
“How sore do you think you’ll be after I’m done fucking you?”
“I don’t really care,” I state, but I am curious.
“You want me.” He says it so softly I barely hear him. Glancing in my mirror, he’s looking down, his face unreadable, his tone serious.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I respond curtly, trying to stay resilient. I’ve seen the girls who are associated with his club; he’s a player and is telling me what I want to hear.
He grunts, a smile breaking across his face. “You’re telling me you didn’t like me kissing you the other night? That my hand up your shirt didn’t light a fire in those little panties of yours?” His tone is arrogant. My body responds, my nipples hardening, craving to have his rough touch one more time. Goddamn him, why can’t he shut up?
“I was drunk,” I defend, looking out the windshield.
The car goes quiet, and I’m thankful; his confrontation made me uncomfortable.
“Hey, Rookie?”
“Hmm?” I look in the rearview mirror to see his face. His mouth is parted, the corner of one lip curved slightly as he looks downward.
“How sore do you think you’ll be after I’m done fucking you?”
One bad biker. One gorgeous sheriff.
One intense biker romance.
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As the president of the Sin City Outlaw
Motorcycle Club, l fuck as hard as I ride and rarely go to bed alone.
The women
are fast and the violence is intense.
I excel
in both.
People
either respect me or fear me. I'm not arrogant. It’s just the truth.
I was a
king, reigning over Vegas without complication, until one gorgeous sheriff made
everything fall apart.
When I
saw her, I became a Neanderthal, wanting nothing more than to be between those
legs.
I guess
that’s where I went wrong, because my reality was shot to hell real
fucking
fast.
One kiss
caused her to step over that blue line.
One night
in her bed made me a traitor.
And now… we’re both screwed.
About the Author
M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where
she still lives with her family. She's a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer
by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously
until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started
writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn't live
with the "what if" anymore and finally took a chance on her
character's story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie
sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.
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