Craving His Virgin Mate (Poison Wolves MC #2) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Fantasy/Sci-fi, MC, Paranormal, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Poison Wolves MC Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
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It didn’t take long, though, for Val to ask for her assistance as more people arrived. She stepped behind the bar and began to take orders. She wasn’t as fast as Val or Amelia, but she was able to keep up with the general service. They had to take turns in serving, gathering up glasses from the main floor, and then washing them.

She’d been serving for nearly two hours when some of the Poison Wolves MC arrived at the bar. The moment the group stepped inside, she saw people stopped and just watched them. Her gaze was on Boyan. She didn’t know if he’d changed since their kiss, but his hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his shirt was still white. He had on a pair of jeans and a leather cut.

Agatha knew it wasn’t polite to stare but it was hard for her to look away. He commanded the room. Alpha was there with him and a couple of other people she didn’t recognize. They approached the bar and the one she imagined was Wolfe rounded the counter and pulled Amelia into his arms.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said.

Amelia chuckled and Agatha tuned the couple out.

“Agatha,” Boyan said.

“Boyan.”

His lips were pressed together and it was like he was trying to stop himself from smiling. She didn’t know why she found that charming, but she did. Just another little detail to add to her list of what she loved about the town.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“A beer.”

“Whiskey.”

“Vodka.”

“Gin.”

The orders took her by surprise.

“I’ll serve,” Val said.

“That’s fine, Val. We don’t mind Agatha serving us,” Boyan said. “Just make sure you get Alpha his drink first.” He winked at her.

Alpha was the one who ordered the whiskey so she got to serving the drinks. The whiskey for Alpha, a beer for Boyan. She didn’t know who the vodka or gin were for, but she poured them anyway. One of the men tipped back the gin, then proceeded to pull out some knitting. She was a little taken aback by it.

“Don’t mind Enzo. He takes his knitting with him everywhere,” Boyan said. “Alpha you know, and the vodka drinker is Rocco.”

She smiled at each of them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And I imagine you know who Wolfe is,” Boyan said, nodding to where Amelia and Wolfe were making out.

Agatha felt her cheeks heat and she stole a gaze toward Boyan. He winked at her. This had to be so embarrassing. She felt like they were horny teenagers. Pressing her lips together, she stepped away from the bar, becoming aware of more people watching them. No, they weren’t watching her and Boyan. They were just watching him.

“We’re going to need more glasses,” Val said.

That was her chance to escape this heat. This was not the appropriate time to be aroused.

Grabbing the serving tray, she made her way through the bar, being careful as she collected glasses. She had gotten toward the bar with a tray full when suddenly someone shoved her, hard. The tray spilled out of her hands, and the glasses tumbled to the floor. Agatha had nowhere else to fall, and she landed on top of the shards of glass, crying out as some embedded into her flesh.

“What the fuck!”

There was a sudden growl and with her face close to the shards, Agatha was too distracted to see what was going on. Hands grabbed her hips, and she let out a gasp as she was in someone’s arms, Boyan’s, and he moved her out of the main bar. She didn’t have time to see who’d pushed her. It must have been some kind of mistake.

“Boyan, you need to put me down. I’ve got to go and clean up the mess,” she said.

“You’re cut, Agatha. You’re not going to clean up anything. That asshole who pushed you can clean up the mess.” Boyan started to mutter something beneath his breath. She was only able to make out the words, “useless bastard beta team.” That was it.

Staring down at her palms, she saw they were red. The glass had cut her flesh. Boyan grabbed her wrist.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“It’s fine. There’s not a lot of pain.”

His grip on her wrist seemed to tighten.

“I can still feel you holding me,” she said.

“I’m sorry. This must be stinging.”

She wrinkled her nose. “A little, I guess.”

He growled again.

Agatha chuckled. “Do you know you do that a lot?”

“Do what a lot?”

“You growl. I’ve never heard anyone do it, but you’re always doing it.” She smiled at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Agatha smiled. “It’s fine. It was rude of me to even say anything.”

He captured her face. “Don’t, you don’t need to worry about shit like that.”

Was he worried about her? She wasn’t used to anyone, besides her parents, being concerned for her well-being. Her parents had their own way of handling her. When she got into scraps, they often told her to get up and to brush herself down. Life was going to be hard. She had never thought of them as cold or unfeeling, but with how Boyan reacted, she had to wonder about it.


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