by Levine, Nina
“No he fuckin’ didn’t. Velvet spilled it by accident when she got home drunk last night. You’ve got no clue who you’re dealing with there, and you need to call whatever it is you’ve got going, off.”
I raised my brows. “Oh, really? Do I? And what gives you the right to dictate to me how to live my life?” This was a common argument with us; Nash had spent my entire life telling me how to live it and I was sick of it.
He jabbed a finger in the air at me. “I know Havoc, and I know he is not the man for you. Fuck, Carla, how the hell did you even get messed up with him?”
“I met him at a bar. The rest is history.” I wasn’t going to detail it for him.
“And so you’re dating him now? I didn’t think Havoc was the kind of man to date after all the shit that went down with his ex.”
I was clueless about his ex; it wasn’t something we’d ever discussed. It wasn’t something I was interested to know. And we sure as hell weren’t dating. “Nash, we’re not dating, it’s just sex.”
His eyes were wild. “Good. So you will stop seeing him then?”
“Give me one good reason why I should,” I challenged him even though I really had no intention of giving up sex with Havoc; it was too damn good to give it up.
He glared at me. It looked like he was weighing something up in his mind. “Havoc would kill you without even thinking twice about it. It’s not safe for you to be around him.”
I should have felt shock. His words should have scared the shit out of me, but they didn’t. I’d sensed that about Havoc; knew there was something dark lurking inside him. And yet, I wasn’t scared by him. I felt the opposite when I was with him. I felt safe.
The world stilled as I locked eyes with my brother. We were about to take part in the biggest battle we’d ever had. I wasn’t giving Havoc up; not yet. Eventually I would, when he left town, but not until then. “I’m not going to stop seeing him, Nash,” I said, firmly.
His eyes bulged out of his head, and the veins in his neck popped. “Fuck!” He turned, and hit the wall behind him. When he looked back at me, it was with a determined look on his face. “You will fuckin’ stop seeing him; I will make sure of it one way or another,” he roared, and then stalked out of the house, slamming the front door on his way.
Shit.
Nash had a temper, but I hadn’t seen him that angry for a long time. I had no idea what he planned to do to stop me seeing Havoc, but it pissed me off that he was going to interfere.
My phone rang, and I snatched it up, hoping it was Havoc; I needed to hear his voice right now. “Hello?”
“Hello. Carla?”
I didn’t recognise the voice. “Speaking.”
“Hi, it’s Justin from the Coffee Club calling back about the interview you attended yesterday. I just wanted to let you know you were unsuccessful. And we wish you all the best in your job hunting.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” I said, dejectedly, and hung up.
It was the fifth interview I’d gone to in the last week and they’d all rejected me. I was beginning to think I’d never get another job. I slumped into the chair in front of me, and put my head down on the table. Perhaps I could just block the world out and pretend my life wasn’t falling to bits. And perhaps pigs would fucking fly.
“Carla!”
More banging on the front door, only this time I was happy to hear Havoc’s voice.
“Come in,” I yelled out, not moving out of my seat. Nope, I’d decided to stay in my own little pity party bubble for now.
I heard his heavy boots coming down the hall, and my body tingled with anticipation. Hell yes, Havoc would make it all better; make me forget for a couple of hours at least. When he stopped in the kitchen doorway a moment later, the look on his face told me something was wrong, and my tummy sank.
“We need to talk,” he said.
I took a deep breath. Without moving out of my chair, I said, “Sure. Why not. You may as well add to the bad in my life,” I muttered.
Frowning at me, he asked, “What’s happened now?”
I was drunk on disappointment, and didn’t hold back. “Well, my brother’s trying to control my life, telling me what I can and can’t do, and then I found out I didn’t get yet another fucking job. Add those to the other shit happening in my life, and let’s just say, I’m over it. Out. Had e-fucking-nough. So hit me, Havoc. Tell me your news.” I gestured with my hands for him to carry on.
He stood staring at me, not saying a word. I returned his stare, waiting.
Nothing. He said nothing. But the air in the room had changed. Something new thrummed between us. A need. A want. It vibrated around us, pulling at us to acknowledge it.
“I’ve got to go to Sydney for awhile,” he said, and then added, “Come with me.” His eyes betrayed him. He wasn’t sure of what he was saying.
My breathing sped up. I didn’t want to admit even to myself that I wanted this. I shook my head at him. “You don’t want me tagging along, Havoc.”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want it.”
My mind felt like it was spinning inside my head. I was going to do this. After living my life up until now to a plan, I was going to throw it all out the window and pursue this. I was going to see where it took me. I was going to follow a fucking biker to another city, to hell with the consequences.
***
Havoc
What the fuck was coming out of my mouth? Come with me?
Fuck.
But I couldn’t deny this pull to Carla any longer. I wanted her, simple as that. I didn’t know where the hell this would lead, if anywhere, but I fucking wanted her. That truth was inescapable.
She stood and smiled at me. “Okay, I’ll go with you. One condition though.”
Of course she had a fucking condition; she wouldn’t be her without that. “I don’t do conditions, Carla. Either you’re coming or you’re not.”
That fucking sexy grin of hers spread across her lips. That grin would be the death of my dick. “Oh, you’re gonna love this condition, Havoc.”
“Jesus, woman. Just fuckin’ spit it out.”
She moved into my personal space, curled her hand around the back of my neck, and pulled my face close so she could whisper in my ear. “Somewhere between Brisbane and Sydney, you’re going to fuck me on your bike. Otherwise, I’m not going.”
My hand shot straight out and roughly gripped her neck. “It’s a fuckin’ deal, baby.”
As I agreed to her condition, I prayed to a God I didn’t believe in that this decision and this woman wouldn’t ruin me in the same way the last woman I’d let in had.
COMING SOON
Destined Havoc Part 2
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Acknowledgements
To my readers - I am so thankful that you choose to read my books and support my writing. I get so many messages and emails from you about my books - thank you for taking the time to write to me, it means the world.
To my Stormchasers - I’d be so lost without you girls!! From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for all the love, support, encouragement and #ArmPorn a girl could ask for! FARK! You girls, are amazing xx
To Louisa - I. Love. You. Without your gorgeous covers, my books would be nothing! Thank you so very much for being the best cover designer an author could ask for and a special friend too.
Melanie - You are amazing and have no idea just how much! I am so blessed to have you in my life and in my corner. Thank you for everything you do for me. There’s not enough room here to list it all but you know what you do. I appreciate it all, babe. Especially those midnight calls where you’re sitting in your car doing blocks. OH, and those sexy phone calls where you read my books to me - fucking love those!! You should consider branching out into audio books... baaaabe ;)
Elle, Becca, Lauren & Amanda - Thank you for reading my work and giving me your honest feedback. I truly
appreciate the time you put in for me xx
To all the bloggers who share my books - Thank you so much for all you do for me!! I know I miss a lot of it but I just want you to know how much it means to me and that I am so grateful for your support and help xx
To my fellow authors - Jani Kay, Chelle Bliss, River Savage, Lilliana Anderson, Pepper Winters, Max Henry, Rachel Brookes, Lyra Parish, Evie Harper, Lila Rose, Kirsty Dallas, Carmen Jenner, Lili Saint Germain & Emma Fitzgerald - thank you so much for your friendship and support. Particular thanks goes to Emma this time around because she sprinted with me nearly all weekend when I was finishing this book off and that was an amazing help to me to get it finished.
To my family - Eliahn & Kate... love you both!! I know you struggle with the time I put into writing and I thank you for being there for me anyway. Your love is everything. Mum, Dad & Anthony - thank you for your love and encouragement. Stephen... love you dude! Thank you for being you and putting up with us xx
Nina Levine
USA Today & International Bestselling Author
Also by Nina Levine
Storm MC Series
In Order:
Storm (Storm MC #1)
Fierce (Storm MC #2)
Blaze (Storm MC #2.5)
Revive (Storm MC #3)
Coming Soon
Slay (Storm MC #4) - 20th October 2014
All Your Reasons (Crave Series #1) - 10th November 2014 as part of the Owned: An Alpha Anthology
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About The Author
Nina Levine is an Aussie writer who writes stories about hot, alpha men and the tough, independent women they love.
When she isn’t creating with words, she loves to create with paint and paper. Often though, she can be found curled up with a good book and some chocolate.
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A Sneak Peek at All Your Reasons
When heartbreaker meets ball breaker, sparks will fly.
Rockstar, Jett Vaughn, isn’t against settling down, but no woman has ever held his attention long enough for a relationship to develop. That is until he meets Presley Hart. She’s confident, opinionated and headstrong. She drives him to the edge of crazy, but he can’t deny how she makes him feel.
He wants her heart, but she only wants his body.
Presley’s not against giving her heart to a man, but she has too many reasons why he’s not the one to give it to. Jett isn’t a man who will take no for an answer though. He’s about to declare war on her reasons and take what he wants.
“Presley, babe, you made it.”
I divert my attention from the mirror to the voice behind me. Shit, I’d forgotten that she said she was coming here tonight. Jade Garcia. Supermodel. Shallow bitch from hell. God, give me strength.
Before I can reply, her food deprived friend interrupts. “You’re the photographer from today’s shoot, aren’t you?”
Full points to the vapid, supermodel wannabe. I bite my tongue on so many witty remarks and instead simply reply, “Yes.” Well, okay, perhaps they weren’t witty so much as catty. I can be one of the cattiest bitches you’ll ever meet. That could be why I don’t have a lot of friends. That and the fact that I truly dislike most people I meet.
Jade starts gushing to her friend. “Presley is one of the best photographers I’ve ever worked with. They had to pay a small fortune to get her to work on this shoot.”
I tune her out; I’ve heard it all before and I’m over it. I’m also over working with models, and clients with no imagination. This shoot bored me to fucking tears and I won’t be working with them again in a hurry.
“I’ve got to meet another friend, Jade. I’ll see you around,” I say as I begin to make my way out of the ladies room.
She raises her eyebrows. “A Valentine’s date?”
“God, no!”
“You don’t like Valentine’s Day?”
“What’s there to like? A commercialised day that puts pressure on people to buy shit that supposedly proves how much they love their partner. I’ve never celebrated it and don’t ever plan to,” I reply, noting her stunned expression.
“Wow. I’ve never met a woman who doesn’t love Valentine’s Day.” Her previous awe of me has been replaced with disdain. If I’d known it would be this easy to change her opinion of me, I would have shared my thoughts earlier.
I shrug. “Well, now you have. Love’s an everyday experience; it’s something shown in the mundane things you do for your lover. It’s not found in a fucking bunch of flowers picked up on the way home from work because you know if you don’t get them that day of all days, your life won’t be worth living.”
Jade’s eyes are glazing over; I’d probably lost her at mundane.
“I’ll catch you later,” I say as I push open the door and exit the room, not waiting for her response. With a bit of luck, I’d never have to see her again.
The cool air of the club hits my face and I welcome it after the heated stuffiness of the crowded ladies room. It is Friday night, and pumping in here. Everyone is celebrating the end of the work week. I’m celebrating the beginning of my holidays. Three months of no work. Three months of doing whatever the hell I want; bliss.
I make my way to the bar and order a bourbon and coke. After slamming it down in two gulps, I motion to the bartender to pour me another.
“Hard day, sweetheart?”
Turning to see who is speaking to me, I am momentarily speechless while I take in his piercing blue eyes and gorgeous features. Whoever this man is, he has the ability to turn me on just by being near me because I am turned way the fuck on right now. As electricity sparks through me, I imagine running my hands through his dark hair and laying kisses along that chiseled jaw. Need and desire swirl together and I decide that he will be mine tonight.
“Hard week more like it,” I answer him just as the bartender brings me another drink. Before I can get cash out of my purse to pay for the drink, the guy lifts his chin at the bartender who nods and walks away without taking payment. I’m still trying to find cash in my purse and the guy puts his hand over mine, stilling it.
“Why was your week so bad?” he asks, his hand still on mine.
I move my hand away. “Thanks for the drink.”
He flashes me a smile that shoots more electricity through me. “You’re very welcome. Now tell me about your week.”
I sigh. “I’d rather not talk about it. Let’s just say that dealing with pretentious, self centred people for twelve hours a day, five days in a row is enough to make me consider moving in with the Amish and adopting their way of life.”
He chuckled. “I hear you. It sounds like we’ve been dealing with similar people all week.”
I cock my eyebrow. “Oh, no. I fucking win this one, dude. I’ve been working with models who couldn’t work out their left from their right half the time.”
He nods, another smile on his face that would melt my panties if they weren’t already melted. “You win. I could think of nothing worse than working with models.”
Available 10th November 2014.
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Storm (Storm MC #1)
by Nina Levine
Prologue
Fuck.
How had my life come to this?
Sitting on the gravel with my knickers on the ground next to me and blood spilling from the gash on my arm, I looked up at J. Tears were streaming down my face and my hair was stuck to it in places. I had dirt all over me and my dress was ripped. The only things still in place were my heels.
J was pacing back and forth, on his phone. Probably calling Scott, I thought. Yes, Scott would know how to fix this clusterfuck of a situation. Normally, J would have something like this under control, but this time he was just too close to it to be objective.
I prayed Scott would come through for us.
My eyes slid to Rob’s lifeless body, sprawled in front of me.
You motherfucker. Why did you have to do what you did?
I don’t know how long I sat there like that, staring vacantly at him, but movement to my left caught my attention and I turned to see what it was.
Scott was walking towards me, a fierce look on his face. When he reached me, he knelt down and gently touched my arm. “Madison, it’s time to go,” he said quietly.
I stared into his eyes, not sure what I would find there, but all I saw was tenderness. Unusual. Scott didn’t do tenderness. Not very often.
J knelt on the other side of me. “Come on, baby,” he said as he tried to help me up.
Pain shot through my body as I stood. I winced but didn’t let it slow me. J wrapped his arms around me and helped me to Scott’s Charger. I looked back at Rob, my eyes taking in his bloody body and then scanning the area to note my knickers on the ground; a reminder of the attack that had occurred.
J settled me in the back of Scott’s car and wrapped a towel around my arm where the blood was. His blue eyes met mine. They showed concern. “Will you be alright here while Scott and I deal with the body?” he asked.
I nodded and he left me; left me to deal with a body like it was just another thing to do in his day. Well, I guess it sometimes was. All part and parcel of being a member of the Storm MC. My dad’s club. The club I had grown up around.