 by KB Winters.jpg)
Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Never imagined I’d be stuck babysitting a sweet spinner like Aria, sheltered in her gilded prison.
As the pressure builds in this pink hellhole, Aria keeps testing me, tempting me. Her captivating allure, her fearless defiance—it makes me want her.
But I have a job to do and refuse to be just another conquest.
Everything takes a dark turn when we find the buried secrets of her old man—secrets darker and deeper than the FBI. Aria is in more danger than we thought.
With each revelation, our bond grows stronger, forged in the flames of this godforsaken inferno. Now, the feds are closing in and Aria desperately needs my help.
Caught between the dangerous world of the club and this mission, I’m torn between diving in headfirst or pulling away completely.
One thing’s for sure, Aria may see me as a beast, but I won’t give up until I make this beauty mine.
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*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Lucky
I am so damn tired of looking after Aria Morgan, or as I call her, The Princess. Yeah, sure, she’s hot as fuck, but I’m a patched member of the Reckless Souls MC. Yeah, that’s right. I’m patched now, so how come I’m still babysitting her spoiled ass? Okay, it’s a very fucking fine ass that I wouldn’t mind spanking.
Or fucking.
But it’s so annoying that I have to be at her side twenty-four-fucking-seven.
Aria rocks pink every single day and stuffs her annoying little dog—a boy dog named Coco, like Chanel—in a matching pink tote. And yes, carries him like arm candy everywhere she goes. But that’s not the worst part.
You’d think a whole cotton candy factory exploded in her bedroom. To be honest, I could probably handle her fixation on pink if Aria herself wasn’t so damn annoying.
And no matter how much she gets under my skin, she also seems to possess some kind of magical power over my libido.
It’s impossible not to gawk at her when she prances around in her skimpy pink skirts, revealing miles of perfectly tanned legs. She keeps them toned with her early morning yoga sessions, contorting herself into flexible poses that leave little to the imagination.
And don’t even get me started on her tits, or I’ll be walking around with a fuckin’ boner day in and day out.
“I have a date tonight,” she says as if her social life is top-of-the-chart important to me.
My gaze swings to hers, and I do everything in my power to infuse my expression with disdain because, you know, if I don’t remind myself how goddamn annoying she is, I might do something about the hot as fuck part of her. “Okay,” I say, casually.
“He’ll be here soon,” she adds as if she has any right to be annoyed.
“All right,” I say, waiting for her to get to the fucking point.
She stomps her foot, clad in a pale pink stiletto with a big loopy bow around the ankle.
“You can’t come,” she gestures to my face, and impossible to ignore tattoos. “Not looking like that.” She adds a sneer. “This isn’t exactly a face tattoo kind of place, Lucky.”
The way she says my name makes me smile. Annoying her has become my favorite pastime, especially since I’m stuck on princess duty.
It’s not that we need the princess, I remind myself. We’re keeping her safe from the cartel.
“Tough shit,” I tell her. “Where you go, I go. You know that.”
She lets out a low growl, stomping both of her fuck me heels like a child throwing a tantrum. It should make her less attractive, but those tits we aren’t gonna talk about have the perfect amount of jiggle, and I can’t look away. “Whatever. Just don’t embarrass me.”
I grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Princess.”
With a frustrated sigh, I scrub my hand over my face, letting my gaze swing left and right up the block where Aria lives with her father, Geoffrey, who is never home. Thank fuck because I’m not sure I could deal with them both without losing my shit.
This is a job more suitable for one of the prospects. Tank or my brother Diesel are good candidates. Hell, even the new prospect Olly can do this without fucking it up. But for some unfathomable reason, I’m stuck here.
The sun starts to set, and the orange glow settles on the big ass mansions in the neighborhood, and I appreciate the sight. These rich folks pay an arm and a leg for houses they work too much to spend time in. But the solitude is the only thing that makes this assignment bearable—no nosy rich fuckers asking questions.
All too soon, a red Maserati pulls into the driveway, and out steps a blond-haired douchebag wearing chinos and a light green golf shirt. He walks with an arrogant air about him—the exact type of asshole I expect the princess to date. He ignores me and heads to the front door, and Aria coos over his arrival.
I roll my eyes at her stupid fucking baby talk, and they disappear into the house. Finally, I can make my way to my bike with a smile. Staying at the mansion with Aria means I haven’t had time to ride, to let the sun hit my forearms and the back of my neck as I tear up the highway, but tonight, I get to ride. For a little while, anyway.
I only manage to get my helmet strapped when the massive front door opens, and Aria saunters out with the douchebag. He’s dressed like one of the Easter eggs Diesel and I used to paint with Grandma. There’s a smug air about him, and it has nothing to do with his appreciative gaze on Aria’s tits. His gaze flicks up to mine, and I nod. Yeah, motherfucker, I’m going along for the ride.