Cyrus (Iron Tzars MC #8) Read Online Marteeka Karland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Iron Tzars MC Series by Marteeka Karland
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Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 37093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 124(@300wpm)
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“Yeah, you do. I’ll take you there. Get dressed.”

I shook my head, but did as he instructed. I managed to get my underwear and shorts on but struggled with my bra. Cyrus was there, helping me straighten out the pullover sports bra before putting my T-shirt over my head. When I turned around, he settled his hands on my hips.

“You good?”

Was I? “I don’t know.” Tears I’d been holding back for a week overflowed and fell down my cheeks. Gazing into Cyrus’s eyes, I’d never felt more vulnerable in my life.

“You held it together this long. Hold on a little longer. Can you do that? For me?”

I sniffed and wiped the tears from my face, nodding as I did. “I’m good. I won’t embarrass you.”

He growled and pulled me into his embrace, holding me tightly. “Never, Odette. You could never embarrass me. For any reason.”

I trembled, struggling to keep myself together, all the while wondering how long I could manage. Now that the secret was out, all the emotion I’d held inside wanted to break free and rid my body and mind of everything I’d been holding in.

Cyrus stood with me, holding me securely while I gathered myself, trying to put the genie back in the bottle. It was hard. So very fucking hard. It took several minutes, but I finally managed. The second I tried to step away from him, Cyrus let me go. His arms dropped to his sides, and all the emotion I’d fought so hard to contain threatened to burst free again. Instead, I put my chin up, took a breath, and opened the door to leave.

Cyrus followed me, not letting me far from his side. Once we exited the building, he snagged my hand and led me to his bike. The custom Harley was a thing of beauty. I might not be part of a motorcycle club, but I knew by the way he looked at the bike it was something he took pleasure in. As I stepped close to it, I knew I wanted to be on the back of it. There was no other way to go about it now, I was definitely riding with him this time, but I wanted to be there permanently. And yeah, I knew what being on the back of a man’s bike meant to these guys. It meant I was his. Which would likely never happen. Not with Cyrus. And not only because he was tight with my brother.

I sat stiffly, my fists curling into the leather of his cut. He probably wouldn’t like it because a biker’s cut was almost sacred to him. Bunching the leather might damage it. It didn’t surprise me that Cyrus snagged my wrists and pulled my hands away from the vest. What did surprise me was that he pulled me close, urging me to wrap my arms around his waist. The next thing I knew, I pressed the side of my face against his back and flattened my palms against his chest and abdomen. My fingers were splayed wide, wanting to touch every part of him I could. He grunted at me. Approval? Then he started the bike and took off.

We rode for a while. I wasn’t ready for him to take me back to the compound and I thought he needed time to think about what had happened. Probably how to let me know all that shit about him being the father of my child was to keep me from being embarrassed any more than I already was in front of the doctor.

After an hour, I was getting tired. I wasn’t used to long rides on a bike and though the breeze was wonderful, it was still hot out. I never loosened my hold on him. In fact, the second I realized where we were, I bunched my fists in the front of his shirt, the nervousness I’d been trying to hold off kicking in making me tremble. I was pretty sure what was about to happen. Cyrus was going to let me down as easily as he was capable of. He’d tell me he’d get me back to my brother in Florida or something and that would be it. Once he delivered me to my brother, he’d be out of my life. Again. It shouldn’t hurt. It wasn’t like he was actually in my life to begin with.

We pulled into the garage and turned off the engine. “Careful of the pipes, darlin’. Don’t burn yourself.” He got off, but I froze, looking down at the bike helplessly.

“I’ve never ridden before. I-I don’t know what’s hot.”

“Come here.” He stepped close to me and put his arm around my back, his hand under my arm and one under the closest knee. When he lifted, I gasped and put my arms around his neck.


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