by Levine, Nina
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Hurricane Hearts is the first book in my Storm MC Reloaded series. I wrote Hurricane Hearts as a standalone and then later decided to write more of their story in Battle Hearts, the last book in the series. Here’s the series reading order:
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Hurricane Hearts
War of Hearts
Christmas Hearts
Battle Hearts
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While this series is the third one in my Storm MC world, you don’t technically need to read the other two series to enjoy this one, although the characters from the others do show up in this one.
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And while there wasn’t any MC business in this book, the next three have a lot in them. Here’s the blurb for the next book, War of Hearts:
Blurb:
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I tried not to look at her.
I tried not to want her.
I tried not to love her.
But she won this war of hearts, and now I'm a man on my knees.
This love may kill me.
My president will see to that.
No one touches his daughter.
He's removed me from her life.
He's sent me to hell where every day is a bloodbath.
If he thinks he's won, he's wrong.
Every battle is won before it's fought, and she won this battle a long time ago.
I surrendered in our war of hearts, and now I'll fight to the death for my queen.
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Available on Amazon and in KU.
If you loved this book, please consider leaving a review for it. I appreciate you helping spread the word about my books by reviewing and telling friends about them!
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AND the playlist! Check it out here.
Bonus Chapters
These chapters take place between the end of Hurricane Hearts and the epilogue. Winter has moved to Melbourne while Birdie is still in Brisbane waiting to move to be with him.
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Birdie
* * *
Winter is going to kill me.
Dead.
Deader than dead.
God, how do I get myself into these predicaments?
I blame my mother. She’s the one who convinced me it would be a good idea to help Winter out by taking on some of the renovations at home for him while he’s busy with club stuff. “He’s barely home at the moment,” she said, “He’ll appreciate not having to come home and do even more work.” I agreed with her, completely, but now that I’m assessing the mess I’ve made in our home, I’m not as sure.
Carey will know what to do. He always does.
I call him and he answers on the first ring. “Whatever you’ve done now, I don’t want to know and I can’t fix it for you.”
“Have I told you lately that you’re the worst brother in the world?”
“Often. And FYI, it’s my goal in life. Surely one day soon you’ll stop calling me in one of your emergencies if I’m firmly cemented in your mind as the shitty brother.”
“I hate to break it to you, but Lucas doesn’t have the skills you do, so it won’t matter how shitty a brother you are, you’re always gonna be the one I call.”
“Christ,” he mutters. “Seriously Birdie, how much shit can you get into while Winter’s away?”
“I’ll have you know I’ve managed well on my own while—”
“Bullshit. He’s been gone two weeks this time and you’ve called me four times for help. At this point, I shudder to think what you’ve broken, because I’ve already fixed your toilet, shower, garage door, and that hole you put in the lounge room wall.”
“I didn’t break the toilet or the shower! They—”
“What is it? What have you done today? I’ve gotta head out in half an hour and take care of some stuff, but depending on what it is, I might be able to swing by later and take a look.”
“Shit, no. I need you to come now. Winter will be home this afternoon. I need it fixed by then.”
Carey starts to say something to that, but a deep voice sounds from behind me. “I’m home now. What needs fixing so urgently?” Winter.
I spin around and lay eyes on my husband who’s watching me with arched brows, waiting expectantly for my answer. “Gotta go,” I say to Carey, “Winter just got home.”
I end the call and Winter closes the distance between us so he can slide his arm around my waist and kiss me. It’s not a quick kiss, but it’s also not his usual ‘I’ve been away far too fucking long and I missed you’ kiss. My man is exhausted. That’s what I feel the most in his kiss.
When his lips are finished with mine, he pulls his head back and says, “Well? What do you need fixed?”
I bite my lip and step out of his hold. “I don’t want to tell you.”
His brows furrow. “Why not?”
“Because you won’t be happy.”
“What have you done?”
Winter knows me well, so he knows that when I tell him he won’t be happy, he probably won’t be. “I think it probably isn’t as bad as it looks and won’t take much to fix.” He also knows that when I say stuff like this, it means the complete opposite. It is as bad as it looks and it will take a lot to fix.
I like to live in my own distorted reality.
Winter is hard-core about facing reality head-on.
We have some issues we’re working through.
He jerks his chin at me. “Show me.”
“You’re exhausted; why don’t you sleep for a bit and then we can figure this out.” And maybe in that time I can find someone to make magic happen.
“I am exhausted, and I am going to get some sleep, but that won’t happen now until I know what we’re fixing.”
Shit. “Okay, but just remember how much you love me. And how much you like my lips around your dick.” I’m pulling the big guns out for this. I’m going to need those guns with what I’ve done.
“Fuck,” he mutters, raking his fingers through his hair. “This is gonna hurt, isn’t it?”
My face pulls into a pained expression. “Just a little.”
I then turn and lead the way into the kitchen, my stomach clenching like I’ve eaten the worst curry in the world. When we reach our destination, Winter follows me in. I don’t look around to gauge his reaction; I simply hold my breath and wait.
It feels like minutes pass before he says, “Baby, your lips are gonna be around my dick a lot for this. And that’s just for starters.” He moves past me to inspect the room. “I’m not sure how you thought Carey would be able to fix this in a day.”
Clearly I believe my brother has superpowers.
“So, umm, on a scale of one to ten, where are you sitting right now?” I ask, following him.
He doesn’t answer me instantly; instead, he takes a good, long look around the room at everything I’ve done before bringing his eyes to me.
“The tiles should look good once they’re finished.”
I want to vomit.
Please God, let this just be a bad dream.
Let me wake up and discover I didn’t fuck this up so badly.
“So umm, the tiles…. There’s no more. And the supplier can’t get any more either.” I screwed up when I figured out how many we’d need. But I’m not verbalising that because he’s a smart man and can figure that out himself, and well, I feel like the biggest idiot for screwing that up, so I don’t want to mention it.
He gives me that look of his that says “you’re fucking kidding me”. As he opens his mouth to say something, my mother’s voice floats down the hallway to us. “Birdie, I may have a solution to your tile problem.” She stops abruptly when she spots Winter. “Oh, you’re home earlier than we expected, Winter.” Then, glancing at me, she mutters, “Shit.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” I agree.
She glances between Winter and me, uncertainty written all over her face. “Ah, so I think I’ve found those same tiles from another supplier. I thought we could
take a drive now and see. But if you want to stay home with Winter, I can go myself.”
I’ve missed Winter and have been desperate for him to come home, but right now, going with Mum sounds like the best thing I’ve heard all day. Winter has other ideas, though.
“I’ll go and check them out,” he says.
“No,” I protest, “I messed this up; I’ll fix it.”
He moves to me and places his hand on my hip. “Angel, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I don’t want you anywhere near fixing this.” His lips brush mine, and he says, “Let me take a shower and clean up, and then I’ll sort the tiles out.”
I watch him leave before turning to Mum. “On a scale of one to ten, how pissed do you think he really is?”
Her expression says it all: I’m screwed. “Birdie, he’s calm right now, but when he takes that shower he’s gonna start thinking, and I’m fairly certain you’re looking at a level eight at the least.”
That’s what I’m worried about, too.
Winter Morrison is a slow burn most of the time. I think I’m in for some hell later.
Winter
* * *
As I pull my shirt over my head to strip for the shower, King texts.
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King: Need you at the clubhouse tonight. 10pm.
* * *
Fuck.
It’s been a long day on my bike travelling home from Melbourne and I just want to sort this tile shit out and then get my hands on my woman. I sure as hell don’t want to do what I know King’s gonna want me to do. He warned me he might need me over the weekend, but I at least thought I’d have tonight at home.
I shoot him a confirmation text back and then finish removing my clothes. I’m naked and about to step in the shower when Birdie comes into the en suite.
“Winter, can we talk about this now rather than later? Like, just tell me how pissed you are and let’s get this over with. I’m dying over—”
I cover her mouth with mine, cutting off her words and stealing her breath. My hands go to her waist and I pull her hard against me while my tongue tangles with hers. “Fuck,” I growl when I end the kiss. “I’ve missed you.”
She’s missed me, too, and one kiss isn’t enough for her. I’ve barely pulled my lips from hers when she reaches for my face and directs her lips back to mine.
Working away from home is hard on our relationship. For the past three months, I’ve worked a schedule of two weeks on and then four or so days off at home. Birdie and I don’t come up for air much over those four days. If she’s getting started now, while her mother is in the house, I’m going to need to put an end to it, because once I get going, there won’t be any stopping for hours.
“Baby,” I say, pulling away. “My dick is too fucking hard for you for this.”
She blasts me with a sexy smile and pulls her top over her head, giving me an eyeful of her tits. The last fucking thing I need to be looking at when I’m trying like hell not to bend her over and slam inside.
“Fuck, Birdie,” I growl. “Shut the fucking door and get in here. And don’t complain when it’s fast.”
“Mum’s gone.” She undoes her bra and blesses me with a sight I’ve spent too many hours imagining while jerking off late at night.
I grab her around the waist and guide her to the vanity. Moving behind her, I meet her eyes in the mirror. “Those are the best words you’ve said all day.”
She reaches back, wraps her hand around the nape of my neck, and pulls me close so she can kiss me again. I’m a starved man, and the second her lips lock with mine, I yank her skirt up, her panties down, and thrust inside her.
My hands go to her hips and I express my pleasure in a deep growl. Birdie responds, moaning and digging her nails into my skin. Together, we chase the release we’re both desperate for.
It’s over fast, too fucking fast, but we’re only getting warmed up here. Birdie meets my gaze in the mirror, her face flushed with satisfaction. “I’m looking forward to that all weekend.”
I pull out and flick the shower on, not wanting to break my bad news to her, but doing it anyway. “I may have to take care of some club stuff this weekend.”
Disappointment creases her face, but she doesn’t lose her shit. “Well, I mean, I’m going to be busy with tiles anyway.” Joining me in the shower, she presses her body close to mine. “Once you’re finished with club stuff, you’re mine.” Fuck I love my woman.
I run my hand down her ass to her leg, and pull it up and hook it around me. “Angel, you’re not going anywhere near those tiles.”
She slides her hands up my chest to my neck. “You’re shitty about the kitchen, aren’t you?”
Birdie has no idea how far from shitty I am about the kitchen. On her scale of one to ten, I’m at the level of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ because this week has reminded me of how fucking precious life is and that most of the shit we fight about isn’t important in the grand scheme of things.
“Some shit went down this week in Melbourne and two of our members are in hospital,” I say, my throat filling with emotion. “They almost lost their lives. I’ve got a club full of problems to deal with when I go back on Wednesday. Our kitchen feels like a walk in the park compared to that shit.”
The mood shifts and Birdie turns serious. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’ve got enough going on here; you don’t need extra shit to worry about.”
Her hands come to my face and her eyes flash with determination. “Winter, I’m your wife. It’s my job to be there when you need me. When you need someone at the end of the day to unload all your burdens.” Her grip on my face tightens as she adds, “I need to be in Melbourne now, not in another three months.”
Our plan has always been for Birdie to ease out of her responsibilities in her business and train her replacement over six months. It’s not fair to Cleo for Birdie to just leave without doing that. It was hard enough for Birdie to decide to move away from the business she only recently started; I won’t let her rush this.
“No, you need to be here for Cleo and the business like you told her you would. Another three months isn’t going to kill us.”
“Cleo will understand. She’s already told me to go. You’ve got so much on your shoulders down there getting the club on its feet while dealing with all the Silver Hell bullshit; I’m worried about you and your stress levels. Not to mention how exhausting it is going back and forth between Melbourne and Sydney.”
Pushing her against the wall, I cup her breast and rasp, “How about a little less talking and a whole lot more of your lips around my dick?”
I didn’t come home to talk to her about the stuff I’m dealing with in Melbourne. When I married her, I knew I was bringing her into a dangerous world, but I believed I could always protect her. That was before Melbourne. Now I’m not sure I ever want to move her down there. However, stalling my wife is a fool’s errand. Birdie is stubborn as fuck, so I know we’re going to get into this. Before we do, though, I intend to fuck the level of exhaustion into her that will give me at least half a chance of winning this fight.
Birdie
* * *
Winter thinks he can distract me from discussing my move to Melbourne with his body. He thinks wrong, but I’ll take everything he’s got to give because the man is talented with those hands and that cock of his. Not to mention his mouth. Soon enough, though, he’ll be using that mouth to tell me what I want to hear: that he’s good with me moving sooner rather than later. Though, at this point, with everything he’s going through, I’m ready to chance pissing him off by simply making the move without his blessing. My man needs me; he just refuses to admit it.
“Where’s Winter?” Cleo asks when I call her later that afternoon.
“He’s out buying tiles.” He fucked me in the shower, on the bed, and in the kitchen before leaving me to go get the tiles.
“Oh God, is he angry about that?”
“Surprisingly, no. But I think that’s mostly becaus
e he’s got too much else on his mind, which is actually why I’m calling. I need you to talk to him about me moving to Melbourne, and tell him you’re okay with me doing that now.”
“He won’t listen to you?”
“No. He doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch.”
“You married a good man, Birdie. I’ll talk to him.”
“I also have the best friend anyone could ask for.” This really is the truth. When I broke the news to Cleo that Winter had to move to Melbourne for work, meaning I also had to move, she was nothing but supportive. The fact our business is still a baby didn’t stop her from giving that support, even though this means she’ll have to handle all the day-to-day stuff on her own.
“Damn right,” she says. “Just remember, though, that when our chain expands worldwide, I get to run the New York studio.”
Cleo dreams much bigger than I do. I used to dream like her, but now I just want my husband and the family we’re going to build. “Babe, you can run whichever studio you want; I just call dibs on the Melbourne one.”
“Deal. Now go get ready for your long weekend with Winter. I don’t want to hear from you until Wednesday when he’s gone. And you let me handle him with this moving business. I’ll set him straight.”
I laugh. Winter doesn’t know what he’s in for. If he thinks I can be a pain in his ass sometimes, Cleo can be far worse when she wants something. And she wants my happiness as much as I do, so I know she’s going to go in guns blazing.