Blood & Bones – Trip Read online Jeanne St. James (Blood Fury MC #1)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blood Fury MC Series by Jeanne St. James
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
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But he didn’t. Instead he said, “A partnership could benefit us both. Think about it.”

She didn’t need to think about it. She knew a partnership between the two of them could be dangerous.

For her business.

And for her.

She tugged her arm from his grasp, and he released her, letting his fingers drag along her skin as he did so. She turned and instead of leaving the way she came in, she headed out the front door of the barn.

She did her best to walk calmly until she got outside, then she power-walked to her Jeep.

She shouldn’t let him shake her. She was no longer eleven. She was no longer a foolish, love-struck girl. She needed to remember that, no matter if being around him took her back to that time. She needed to remain strong and resist that invisible pull she’d always felt with him.

As her Cherokee rattled back down the driveway, she realized he had shaken her enough she had forgotten to tell him the other reason she had stopped out.

She had forgotten to tell him about Judge.

But she wasn’t turning back to fix her mistake.

Despite what he thought, she didn’t owe him anything. So fuck him, he could find out about Judge on his own.

Chapter Four

Trip stepped out of the afternoon sun and through the darkly tinted glass door into Justice Bail Bonds. The buzzer notifying the occupants of his arrival caused a whole bunch of growling and barking.

Snarling, more like it.

The hair on the back of Trip’s neck rose and he froze in place, expecting ferocious dogs to come charging at him and tear him to pieces.

They didn’t, but two dogs with huge blocky heads and not-so-friendly faces slammed their big-ass paws onto the half-door that barely kept them contained behind the counter at the back of the retail space.

The bail bonds business was in the strip mall attached to the Walmart on the far end of town, where most of the commercial businesses not owned locally were allowed. The town’s council wanted to keep Main Street as “quaint” as possible with small family-friendly, locally-owned shops, restaurants and the like.

Justice Bail Bonds did not fit their definition of “quaint.”

But down on the east side of Manning Grove, anything went. Except for strip clubs or adult stores and that sort of shit. For that kind of entertainment, one had to head south. Far south. The council wasn’t having any of that in a town that held—what they thought—some historical significance.

He was surprised there was even a bail bondsman around here and wondered if it even got enough business. If it didn’t, it might work in Trip’s favor.

Both dogs, which looked similar in structure and coloring of white with large patches of brindle, had become quiet as soon as he had stood still.

But no one had come out to greet him from the back. And until they did, he wasn’t taking one fucking step further. He didn’t feel like becoming their afternoon snack.

He had nothing against dogs. Normally. But these two had wide black leather collars around their thick, muscular necks, big teeth and watchful eyes.

He respected dogs who respected him.

“Yo!” Trip yelled, causing the dogs to react again. Their barking was hopefully a lot worse than their bites. With the size of them, he was pretty sure they could jump the painted plywood half-door if they wanted to. Or bust through the shitty latch that held it closed.

What the fuck. The buzzer, the dogs going ballistic and him calling out “Yo!” wasn’t good enough to catch someone’s attention? What kind of fucking place was this?

He grimaced when a beast of a man with a beard way too fucking long, a bunch of ink and a mean expression stepped behind the counter from the narrow hallway in the back. An answering, “Yo,” was his deep greeting.

Holy fuck. Trip almost didn’t recognize him. The man was huge. The teenager he remembered hadn’t been. In fact, he’d been sort of gangly.

Had things fucking changed.

Judd Scott, aka “Judge,” shouted at the dogs, “Stand down,” and they both shut up instantly with a tail wag.

Trip jerked his chin toward the two dogs, now staring at him quietly. “They yours?”

“One of ‘em.”

And then didn’t he unlatch the fucking door and let the dogs surge in Trip’s direction?

Not only did Trip’s asshole pucker at warp speed, but his balls retreated deep within his body cavity as one of the dogs shoved a nose into his crotch. And not gently, either.

Usually he liked an introduction before he got his nuts nuzzled. “They eat today?”

“Yeah, you’re safe. Jury, stop molestin’ the fuckin’ guy.” Judge’s dark eyes hit Trip’s. “Unless you like it?”

“Gonna say I like my women a bit less hairy.”

“Yeah. Me, too.” Judge snapped his fingers at the two dogs. “Jury. Justice. Knock it off. Go settle.”

With one last sniff from each of them, the two dogs turned and with long tails held high and wagging at a leisurely pace, circled a few times and settled on the floor nearby with wide yawns.


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