by Naomi West
“Motherfucker,” Max growls as Felix picks the bullet out of his leg. He’s got the first aid kit out, binding it up. Redman tends to his own wound, a tight grimace on his face.
“Either of these bad?” I ask.
Redman shakes his head. “Went in clean, came out clean,” he says quietly. “Hurts bad, but I’ve felt worse, so it doesn’t seem like much trouble.”
“It’s lucky you’ve got such a small prick, Max,” Felix says, grinning from ear to ear. “A couple more inches, and they would’ve taken your tip.”
“I don’t grow, I show.”
All the brothers laugh. We set the place alight and ride back into town. There’s no danger of the woods burning down what with how wet the trees are.
Anyway, we’ve made arrangements with the sheriff.
The fire service will be there just in time to tame the blaze.
And then the boss will send a cleanup crew in to dispose of what’s left of the bodies.
This is how we protect our turf.
I send the boys under my command into the clubhouse and then stroll around to the side, hands in my pockets.
I’m not in the mood for a clubhouse party right now. I don’t know why. Maybe a man needs to be on his own sometimes, or maybe it’s just because I’m almost VP. I’m not one of the troops anymore.
Jax comes walking around the corner, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. It’s a cold autumn day, the air fresh and near-icy.
He looks like a pale ice zombie, his hair is so white and his skin is so drained of color. His white hair is tied up in a ponytail, over eyes that are brown, but look almost red, like rusty blood. He’s as tall as me but skinnier. There are few men who would ever doubt how strong he is, even if he’s almost sixty now.
“It went well, then.”
“Two wounded, but yeah.”
“And now you’re walkin’ around thinking about how lucky you got and all the things that could’ve gone wrong.”
“Yeah. Is there anything wrong with that?”
Jax tosses his cigarette to the curb and stuffs his hands into his jacket pocket. “No, there ain’t. I’d rather have a VP who gives a damn than one who don’t. But I also don’t want some fuckin’ downer hanging around the place. It’s a fucking party, man. We won. Why don’t you go into town and get yourself a drink?”
“We don’t got drinks here?”
He tilts his head at me, studying. Jax doesn’t miss much. It’s probably why he and Smoker are such good friends.
“Are you gonna drink here tonight?” Jax asks. “Or do you wanna be alone? When you’re VP you’ve gotta think of stuff like that. Your mood matters. You’ve gotta keep yourself level, or you’ll fuck something up really bad. People look to you to set the tone. You know that, Logan.”
“So what you’re saying is I’ve gotta go into town and get shitfaced on my own so I’m better at my job?”
Jax claps me on the back, hard. He might be old and sinewy, but he’s still got strength. “Looks like you’ve finally got the fuckin’ message.”
I pat him on the back and then head over to my bike.
Jax knows me pretty well. He knows that even if I love the club and I’d die for the brothers, I can’t be around people all the time.
I figure it’s because he’s the same way.
I head out into the center of town. It’s a Saturday and there’ll be plenty of clubs and bars open. Giant’s Drop isn’t big, but it’s big enough not to feel small. It’s not as grim as a city but not as quaint as a little nowhere backwater town.
I ride quick, burning rubber. It feels good to ride, to spin around the corners. To feel nothing but the wheels and the road.
I head into the bar and take a seat right at the end, ordering a whiskey.
It’s one of those bar-club deals, with a dance floor and a DJ off to one side. But it’s still pretty quiet over here.
There’s a mirror behind the bar. Through the stacked-up bottles, I look at myself. Six foot two and a pretty normal face, except for the scar across my left eye. Pretty big, but not as big as some other killers I’ve met.
I slug my whiskey back as the place gets more and more full. I don’t think about much as I drink. It’s good to just feel the burning of the whiskey down my throat, how it settles in my belly. It’s good to calm down some, too.
Around me, civilian men are flocking, swirling into the bar, on the prowl for one thing and one thing only:
Pussy.
I’m not interested in picking up a woman tonight. Too much fucking hassle. If I wanted, I could head back to the club and get a club girl, but that don’t appeal to me either.
Right now, all I want is to just sit here and empty my mind. Just relax. Just forget about blood and guts and death, the kinds of things that can linger in a man’s head if he lets them. Some of the brothers use fucking as a way to clear the mind after a raid, but it’s never quite done the trick for me.
Jax was right: I just need to be alone.
But then I spot this girl on the other end of the bar.
She’s alone, just like me.
And she’s goddamn sexy.
In her early twenties, maybe, short and curvy, wearing a jet-black skirt and jet-black tights and a pair of jet-black earrings.
For some reason I am interested in her face, in how she looks around the room. It reminds me of a club man. She’s studying.
But she’s also pretty damn drunk. That much is obvious. It’s the way she’s gripping the bar, the slow way she’s breathing, like it’s taking one hundred percent of her attention. But she doesn’t stop drinking.
I keep an eye on her as I drink. An hour goes by like this. She glances at me a few times, but I always make sure I’m not looking at her when she does. It’s not hard. It’s just like tailing somebody.
Her hair is blonde, tied back. Her eyes are red. From crying, from drugs, from allergies, I don’t know.
Then a man comes walking over to her.
The bar is almost packed with people now. Young women dressed in clothes that make me wonder what the fuck they’re thinking. Some of them aren’t even wearing a skirt or a dress or leggings or whatever. They’re just wearing panties, it seems like, so tight I can see everything in one look.
The guys roam around like drunken animals, eyes low and hungry, and the few lucky ones pair off with one of the girls to grope at each other in the shadowy corners. The unlucky ones keep roaming.
The fella who walks over to the girl at the other end of the bar is tall. Looks like a college pretty boy: gelled hair, wooden bracelet and thumb ring, smug grin and soft hands. He swaggers over to the girl like it’s already a done deal.
I watch close as he hits on her for five minutes straight, but she’s not interested. At first she politely tells him something. He doesn’t leave. Then her face gets angrier and he still doesn’t leave. Finally, our gazes meet. She sees me looking. She tries to explain something to the pretty boy.
He puts his hand on her arm.
Before I know it, I’m on my feet.
Want more? Get DEVIL’S VOW now: www.amazon.com/Devil'sVow.
Books by Naomi West
Devil’s Vow: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Bloody Wraiths MC)
An unexpected baby MC romance.
ISABELLE
He’s a snarling, overprotective beast.
There’s no room in his life for manners, decency, or any other normal-person behavior.
Heck, there’s no room for anything but his motorcycle club and his ride.
That’s it.
No exceptions.
No hope for a future.
But Logan is going to have to make some room, one way or another.
Because the savage, rugged biker just got me pregnant—whoops.
And now his enemies are coming to strike.
LOGAN
I shoulda known better.
But Isabelle was too tempting to leave alone.
I’d kept away from w
omen like her for a long time.
Wasn’t saving myself for Mrs. Right.
Just didn’t want to unleash my darkness and demons on an innocent girl.
But I couldn’t help myself.
I had to have her.
And now that she’s mine…
I’ll go to war to protect her.
Oh, and also—
The baby she’s carrying inside of her.
Devil’s Heart: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Executioners MC)
An innocent girl like her should’ve never come near a devil like me.
I was born in hell.
Guess that makes me a devil.
Jasmin is an angel.
She deserves a nicer man than me.
But I ain’t gonna let her go.
I’ve got my hands on her hips. My baby in her belly. My ink on her skin.
And at the end of all this, I might just add my ring on her finger.
Trouble stays close on a devil’s heels, though.
I’m no exception.
And falling into bed with me puts Jasmin square in the crossfire.
Soon enough, I’ll have to make a choice.
I’m willing to die for my woman and my club.
But am I willing to give it all up for her?
Devil’s Ink: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hell Wolves MC)
She was never meant to be in my world. But now that she is, I can’t let her go.
Our enemies have gone too far.
When I find Marissa with their insignia branded into her leg…
I lose my mind.
This is my town.
Hell Wolves MC territory.
No one lays a hand on civilian women and lives to tell about it.
And breaking that rule means war.
But while I go head-to-head with the monsters who did this, I’ve got to keep Marissa safe.
Not just from the beasts who burned her.
But also from the beast within me.
Because she’s getting too close for comfort.
And one wrong move could ruin everything.
Devil’s Revenge: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Satan’s Wings MC)
I’ve got two choices: ride with the devil… or run for my life.
A blood-soaked biker just stomped into my café and pinned me against the wall.
I know what I should do:
Scream.
Fight.
Run.
But when he kisses me, all I can do is beg for more.
Turns out: that’s the worst mistake of my life.
Dax might be a six foot tall heartbreaker with a wicked smile and a rugged six-pack.
But he’s also as dangerous as they come.
Now, I’m caught up in a web of drugs and a war between motorcycle clubs.
There’s only two ways out of this town:
On the back of Dax’s bike…
Or in a body bag.
Maddox: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Iron Crowns MC)
Rule number one: Don’t screw the client.
MADDOX
I didn’t want anything to do with this job.
Babysitting the bratty daughter of some rich prick wasn’t exactly high on my bucket list.
But when the prez says go, I go. Whether or not I like it.
It helps that Geneva is a stone-cold stunner.
Rule number one for bodyguards is “Don’t screw your clients.”
But this ain’t exactly a traditional kind of gig.
That means nothing’s off limits.
Not her delicate curves.
Her hot little mouth.
All game for me to claim and ravage.
GENEVA
My life was perfect. And then Maddox came to ruin it.
Two hours ago, I had the perfect life.
Perfect job. Perfect home. Perfect everything.
And then men came to kill my father – men who were actually trying to kill ME.
Now, I’m ducking bullets and running for my life, while a tatted, muscled biker lays his filthy hands all over me.
He says it’s for my own good.
He says he’s just doing his job.
But it doesn’t take a genius to see that he isn’t exactly complaining about the situation.
Brute or not, Maddox is the only chance I have of surviving.
So that means I’ll have to do the one thing I always swore I wouldn’t:
Give the biker anything he wants.
Stripped: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Fallen Saviors MC)
The biker knocked me up to keep me silent.
How did I end up here…
Having to choose between jail or my boss’s bed?
I can serve a prison sentence or I can serve a biker’s needs.
Either way, it’s going to be VERY HARD TIME.
All because I saw something I was never meant to see:
The cold-blooded murder of an innocent man.
Now, my boss is determined to keep me quiet.
By keeping my mouth full and my hands bound.
I have to do exactly what he tells me, or I’ll end up dead in a back alley, too.
But the cops are doing everything they can to turn me against my outlaw employer.
Do I listen to Ace?
Or to the police pounding on my door?
What the feds don’t know is this:
I’m falling for the man who’s claimed me.
And, after endless nights in his bed…
I’m also carrying his baby.
Jace: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Stolen Angels MC)
My boss is determined to break my heart, and I’m about to let him.
CASSIE
All I wanted to do was work off my debt and move on.
But Jace never gave me that chance.
He owned me with his eyes from the second I entered his sight.
And he owned me with his rough, dirty hands as soon as the sun went down.
He’s an a$$hole. A playboy. An outlaw. A killer.
But something in my heart refuses to let me walk away.
No matter how filthy his mouth is…
No matter how dangerous his world is…
I can’t say no when the bad boy makes me moan.
JACE
I’ve never had much use for women.
One night only – love ‘em and leave ‘em.
Besides, I’m VP of the Stolen Angels.
I’ve got plenty on my plate, and women just get in the way of business.
But Cassie is something special.
She’s a worker in my shop, here to work off her debt by getting dirty on her knees with my tool in her hands.
I thought one rough midnight romp would be enough to work the attraction out of my system.
But I thought wrong.
No matter how hard I try to push her away, I always end up pulling her back to me.
She’s a dangerous addiction.
And even though getting distracted now will put my entire brotherhood at risk…
I can’t say no to one more night with Cassie in my bed.
Grinder: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Shadow Legion MC)
He warned me what would happen if I got too close. I should’ve listened.
With one raspy, growled word after the next, he told me exactly what would happen if I crossed his boundaries.
How he’d pin me down and devour me.
Strip me bare and swallow me whole.
Make me moan. Make me whimper. Make me beg.
I didn’t listen. But I should have.
Because Grinder is a man of his word.
And I did exactly what he warned me not to.
I thought I had nothing left to live for.
My father was dying and I was too broke to pay for the life-saving treatment he needed.
So why not take a ride on the wild side?
But I wasn’t ready for my night with the bad boy.
I was basically untouched before I met Grinder.
Now, I’m the farthest thing from it.
Because the biker has owned me completely.
And I’ll never be the same again.
Mailing List
Join the Naomi West Mailing List to receive new release alerts, free giveaways, and more!
Click the link below and you’ll get sent a free motorcycle club romance as a welcome present.
JOIN NOW! http://bit.ly/NaomiWest