by Zoe Hill
We remain uncertain why Roman arranged for my best friend to be exchanged for me and Spenser, but the latest update from Zoran and Sophia informed us that she continues to be important to Roman and is safe... for now.
All in all, life is both good and bad.
It’s overwhelming, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
Maintaining my acceptance is hard work, but I try my best to make it through every day with my blessings at the forefront of my mind.
“Look out.” Bella nudges me with her elbow. “Random stranger incoming.”
As the DJ starts playing “Bad Things” by Machine Gun Kelly and Camilla Cabello, I turn my attention in the direction she points and discover she’s right. Before I can acknowledge her heads up, my best friend deserts me, dancing her way over to Chester without so much as a goodbye.
The tall, dark, and most importantly, mean man keeps heading my way.
Dressed in an expensive suit, he looks like a serial killer masquerading as a businessman.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I realize that I’m his next victim.
“You’re staring,” he growls when he comes to a stop in front of me.
Arching an eyebrow, I retort, “I was cataloging your flaws.”
“I have no flaws,” he snaps. His sharp rebuke makes me take an involuntary step backward. “My fiancée tells me that I’m the biggest catch in the city.”
Quickly recovering my composure when the softness that coats his comments about the woman he’s going to marry registers in my mind, I lay my hand on his chest and lower my voice to a purr. “She’s a lucky woman.”
Without replying, the man slides his palm along the nape of my neck, then roughly threads his fingers through my hair. Goosebumps break out over my skin and desire pools in my lower belly. He fists my curls and uses them to tilt my head back. Having my throat exposed to this obviously lethal man causes a shudder to run the length of my spine.
“I want to hurt you,” he growls.
“I want to be hurt.”
“I’m going to make you regret that need.”
He drags me through the closest exit by my hair before I can find my voice to object.
“Where are we going?” I ask as the chill in the night air adds to the prickling awareness that’s flowing over my skin.
“Somewhere your screams can’t be heard,” he retorts, pushing me toward the dark corner of the yard.
Shoving me face-first against a cinder block wall, the man kicks my feet apart. He yanks the skirt of my dress up over my hips. Slapping my ass, he puts his lips against my ear and murmurs, “Look at that... no panties. I approve.”
Trailing his fingers along the inside of my thigh, he slowly inches toward my pussy. I buck my hips, trying to escape his touch, but he is relentless. When he reaches my heat, he thrusts two fingers inside me. With danger pulsing from him in waves, the man finger fucks me until my legs feel like jelly, and I’m groaning with pleasure.
“Listen to you,” he barks. “Moaning, already. You wanna be fucked against this wall like a little slut, don’t you?”
“No.”
He spins me around, so I’m facing him. Before I can protest, he plants a hand on the small of my back to hold my mound against the bulge that strains against his trousers. Forcing the fingers he was using to drive me wild between my lips, the man asks, “Do you enjoy the taste of your lies?”
My cheeks burn with shame until he soothes my pride by removing his fingers and kissing me. In unison, we move closer together. Our hands explore the other’s body while our desire for each other builds to a fever pitch. When he swipes the tip of his tongue along the seam of my lips, I give up all pretense that I’m going to refuse him by opening my mouth and touching my tongue to his.
He explores my mouth and I allow him until the teasing touch of his wandering hands become too much to handle. I need more. Mindless with anticipation, I sink my teeth into his bottom lip until I draw blood and he lurches away from me. Growling like a feral animal, he shoves me harder against the wall. My shoulders scream with pain and I raise my hand to slap him.
The man moves like a ninja, catching my wrist before I can connect with his face.
Licking his bleeding lip, he promises in a dark tone, “I’m going to fuck you extra hard for that.”
I take hold of his tie and drag his mouth back to mine. The concrete scratches my back when he leans his weight against me, pinning me in place with his body so he doesn’t break the connection of our lips while he frees his length from his trousers. There is barely time to catch my breath before the man cups my ass, lifts me off my feet, and impales me on his cock.
“Oh. Yes. God.” I jam my hands in his hair and pull. Pumping like a man possessed, he brings me close to climax within minutes. When he squeezes the bare globes of my ass, a moan that telegraphs how well he’s walking the fine line between pleasure and pain bubbles out of my mouth. “Fuck me, Sabra.”
“Trigger,” he corrects me in a harsh voice. “You’ll remember my name whilst I’m inside you, woman.”
My eyes roll back in my head as he pistons into me with lethal intent. Holding his shoulders, I try my best to arch my back so that I can absorb some of his hard thrusts with my body. He immediately works out what I’m doing and stops me from finding leverage by turning around so that his back is braced against the cinder blocks, and the only thing I have to hold onto is him.
“God. It hurts so good, Trigger.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “I haven’t even started hurting you... you’ll be crying by the time I’ve shown you real pain.”
He fucks me savagely, using my body as a tool to alleviate the tension that’s coiled within him. With each thrust, I feel the rage building in him as his release begins to stalk him. I’m quickly becoming a screaming mess that quakes in his arms and quivers around his dick. His fingers flex, digging into my backside when he drops his face into the crook of my neck. Biting my shoulder, he soothes the pain with his tongue before he reverses our position so his back is against the brick wall.
Holding me in the air with one arm, he snakes his other hand between our bodies and seizes hold of my throat. I gasp. He squeezes tighter. A choking sound escapes my lips, and then my vision begins to tunnel into a pinpoint. The only thing I can feel is his cock sliding in and out of my body and tears of relief sliding down my face as he finally steals the last vestiges of my control. Struggling to breathe as Trigger tightens his grip on my neck, I feel every nerve ending in my body spark to life a solitary second before my orgasm begins to steamroll through me like a tsunami.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he groans. The sound echoes in my ears, and the final thing I hear before my climax combined with his deadly grip on my neck makes make me black-out, is his voice straining to shout my name as he empties his release inside me. “Zricha.”
I’m not sure how long I’m out for, but it’s sufficient time for my dress to be pulled back into place, all traces of my tears to be wiped free, and for Trigger to cede control back to Spenser. Perched on the ground outside the main workshop on the Samaritan’s Soldiers MC compound, the first sound I hear is his velvety voice humming in a rhythm I instantly recognize.
He’s counting. From one to thirteen. Over and over until all signs of anguish has left his voice. It took him over twenty years to manage it, but that brave boy who jumped off the cliff into the water with me so long ago has finally made it to his favorite number.
Opening my eyes, I meet the troubled eyes of the man I love. Despite my ongoing battle with acceptance, the only place I feel completely safe is in this man’s arms, and I’m going to beat him over the head with that fact for as long as it takes him to truly believe me.
“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” I try to joke, but my raspy voice refuses to cooperate.
“I hope so.”
“Stop it.” Stroking his face, I say, “You’re overthinking things. I need this as much as you do.”
Although h
e doesn’t respond to my assurances, when he turns me so I’m straddling his lap, I know that he’s moved past the post-Trigger blues that always flood him with unwarranted guilt over what I willing do with him. Half the time it’s my idea. Accepting my sexual needs was the first step in my healing.
Sitting astride him causes the skirt of my dress to bunch around my hips. I don’t care. No one can see us in this secluded corner. As a blur of ginger fur rushes over to us and pushes her way between our chests, I reconsider my assessment of how alone we are. Climbing off my fiancé, I smooth my dress down under my backside and sit next to him on the ground.
“Hey there, Miss Lilith.” I scratch Spenser’s cat behind the ears, laughing when she abandons his legs to curl up in my lap. Spenser’s outraged expression is too funny. Ever since his feline friend met me, we’ve been best buds. He doesn’t have to know that I bought her affection by slipping her an extra sachet of her exorbitantly expensive gourmet cat food whenever he wasn’t looking.
We sit in silence, just two satisfied lovers and their cat, until Spenser leans closer and kisses the top of my head. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Trusting me not to judge you when you take what you need from me,” he replies. Planting another kiss on my hair, Spenser continues, “For staying with me when the pressure becomes too much, and I need to Hulk-out.”
Taking hold of his left hand, I pull his fingers to my lips and press a kiss on his knuckles, one by one, finishing with his scarred index finger. “I love all of you, including Trigger.”
“I thank my lucky stars every night that you do.”
“Our love has nothing to do with the stars.” As I shake my head, I lift my face to look at the bright orbs twinkling in the sky. As majestic as they are, nothing celestial had a hand in our connection—in the past or now. I nip at his ear lobe before I add, “It’s all down to Mother Nature... she’s the one who decided that the sunrise comes after the darkness.”
THE END
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Sooooo, I’ve made it to the point of publishing my first book. Holy moly, what a journey! Until I embarked on this trek myself, I never understood exactly how much effort goes into becoming a real author. It’s an epic task that cannot be done alone.
First up is my husband. You are the best. Enough said.
My kids. Despite your escalating teen angst and ability to communicate your annoyance with me using nothing more than a roll of your eyes, I adore you both. You are the best of me combined with the best of your dad and I couldn’t be more thankful that I’m your mum.
My beta readers: Megan Alexis Drane, Christina Balaz, Margaret Hassebrock, Lauren Maclean, Gigi Gillespie, Nickie Sale: This story wouldn’t be half it is without your input. Thank you so much!
Amy Briggs. Thank you for stepping in at the last minute and saving my bacon.
Robyn Corcoran. Your proofreading added the final polish this story needed. Thank you for all that you do for me.
Kiki Chatfield. Whatever divine deity I need to thank for you being in my life will be handsomely rewarded. You are a goddess. Your professionalism and enthusiasm are the reason why I’ve made it this far. Every day I fall little more in love with your PR talents.
The Next Step PR team. You guys are the bomb. I’m terrible at social media, but I do see all you do for me and I really appreciate it.
And, lastly, to you. Yes, you—the person reading this right now. Thank you for taking a chance on my novel. I hope you enjoyed your time with Spenser and Poppy and you’re chomping at the bit to read more stories about the members of the Coalition and the Samaritan’s Soldiers MC x
ABOUT ZOE HILL
Zoe Hill is an Australian writer. Having found her niche spinning tales about love and villains—a trope she affectionately termed “Villainous Romance,” Zoe loves nothing better than typing all the words and consuming exorbitant amounts of coffee and Skittles while her two teens are at school.
A country girl at heart, she is a rabid reader, a metal head, and UFC fanatic. When not writing, Zoe can be found chatting about plot bunnies with her menagerie of animals and musing out loud about how well she’s moonlighting as a competent wife and mother.
Learn more about her books at zoehillwrites.com or read excerpts on Book+Main Bites.
Zoe is active online and loves nothing better than chatting about books.
Feel free to friend her on Goodreads or join her Facebook Reader Group, Zoe Hill’s Coffee Club or check out her social media accounts | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter | Pinterest |
CONTENTS
Title
Copyright
Become a VIP reader
Also by Zoe Hill
Dedication
Playlist
Contents
Content Note
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
Bonus Scene
Acknowledgments
About Zoe Hill
Contents