Brooks (Henchmen MC Next Generation #11) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Henchmen MC Next Generation Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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She’d graduated with a business degree and a ring on her finger.

Everything falling into place.

But it also meant that the party Sage was going to would be formal and uptight, full of country club food and people. All of whom would bore Sage to death.

Still, it was family.

It was worth holding onto.

I understood that all too well.

And, through me, Sage saw that as well.

Besides, Sage would always have her crazy-ass younger sister to keep her company.

“Hey, you’re coming with me to the club tomorrow night,” I reminded her.

“Yes, I’m gonna need all the free drinks the girls,” she said, waving at her tits, “are going to buy us.”

“I will never fail to be amazed by how those things can just shake money out of men’s pockets.”

“Right? It’s almost worth the constant neck and back aches.”

“You do realize we both work for a chiro, right?” I asked as we pulled up to the drive-thru lot.

“Yeah, but he’s also like the hottest thing alive. And I’m pretty sure that while he was adjusting me, I would moan instead of grunt in pain.”

While Dr. McCall wasn’t exactly my type, I had to admit that the man was a lot of women’s wet dreams. Tall, classically handsome, blond hair, blue eyes, with some delicious ink up and down his arms, and a deep, soothing voice.

“I mean I had a dream last night that he had his arms wrapped around me, adjusted my neck, then told me Good girl. The wettest wet dream ever,” she said with a dreamy sigh.

“If you say so,” I said, placing our order, then pulling up to the window.

“When’s the last time you had a wet dream?” she asked.

“Honestly… I don’t think I ever have,” I admitted.

“What? How is that possible? You’ve never woken up tangled in your own sweaty sheets, needing to press your thighs together to ease the throbbing of your—eavesdropping much?” she asked, leaning past me to look at the guy standing at the open drive-thru window.

To be fair, he was trying to pass me back my card. But he was totally attentively listening too.

“Anyway… throbbing pussy,” Sage said, just to watch the guy’s eyes go wide and his cheeks go a precious shade of pink.

“Stop trying to corrupt the guy, Sage,” I said, taking the drinks he almost spilled all over my car when Sage dropped the ‘p-word’ so unexpectedly.

“But it’s so fun,” she said, leaning over me to beam at the guy who’d gone from pink to red in a split second. “One for the spank bank, right, honey?” she asked, taking him to a bright shade of tomato as he passed us our bags.

“You’re awful,” I said, handing the bags to her, so I could pull away.

“You love it,” she shot back, pulling fries out of the bag, and popping one in her mouth.

“I do,” I agreed.



I still did a day later as we were dangerously close to sweating through our makeup and clothes as we walked up to a line outside of the club. The line that wrapped around the corner with little signs of moving.

“Ugh, this is not going to work,” she decided, looking at the girls in front of us using their wallets or hands to try to fan some cool air on their faces. “Come on,” she said, grabbing my wrist, and walking up past the line, right to the bouncer.

“You’re pretty as fuck,” he said in all of his muscle-man handsomeness as his gaze raked over both of us. “But so are they,” he said, nodding his chin toward the large group of girls standing behind the guys who were next in line.

“Sure, sure, very pretty,” Sage said, turning back to the bouncer, her back fully blocking the group behind her as she grabbed the stretchy front of her dress, and yanked it down. “But do they have these?”

The bouncer cleared his throat, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “No, baby girl, no, they don’t,” he said, shaking his head at her as he held out a hand, silently asking for our IDs that he ran through the machine. “Go on in. And if you don’t find someone else to warm your bed tonight,” he said, gaze moving over her again, “you know where to find me.”

Sage was still beaming as we walked inside.

“Did you plan on flashing the bouncer tonight?” I asked. “Or do you just wear pasties all the time?”

“I mean, it’s a new, hot club,” she said, shrugging. “There was no way we were getting in without a little… persuasion. And there’s nothing more persuasive than some nice titties. I mean, your ass probably would have done the job too,” she said, giving it a smack. “But it wouldn’t be quite as discreet to pull your skirt up in public.”

The music got too loud as we moved inside to do any more talking. Which was fine. I wasn’t here to talk. I was here to drink and dance and lose myself in the crowd.


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