Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
All’s fair in love and war…
I’m ruthless.
I’m feared.
I have more enemies than friends.
I didn’t just step into my father’s shadow—I’m a Jameson and that last name comes with money
and power. I’m never afraid to get my hands dirty, especially when it comes to something I want.
Or maybe she’s a need…
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.
Right and wrong.
Good or bad.
She. Was. Mine.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
LUKE
To hell with reason.
With doubt.
With love.
To hell with it all.
Especially us.
CHAPTER
ONE
LUKE
“Boss, we have a problem,” Marcus announced, barging into my office without knocking, forcing my attention over to him.
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, where one year bled into the next.
I glared up at him, narrowing my eyes. “Congratulations. Did you forget how to fuckin’ knock?” The blonde who was sucking my cock tried to look up, but I pushed her back down. Looking down at her, I warned, “Did I say you could stop?”
She gagged, taking my dick all the way to the back of her throat.
“I-I…” Marcus stuttered, watching her mouth and hand stroke my cock up and down while my grip never moved from the back of her head.
My cell phone rang. “I need to take this.”
“I—”
“I don't know why you think this is suddenly my problem. How ’bout you man the fuck up and take care of it yourself? Isn’t that what I pay you for?”
“Boss—”
Patience was never my virtue. “Did I stutter? Leave. Now!”
He jolted, turned, and left.
I shoved the blonde’s head away, causing her to fall on her ass. “That means you too, sweetheart.”
“What the fuck?” she seethed.
“No shit. With a mouth like yours, I thought you’d suck my dick like a goddamn pro.”
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to like that? I’m the best.”
“The best thing that’s come out of your mouth is my dick. Now get the fuck out.”
“You bastard!”
“Been called worse by better, sweetheart.”
“Ugh!” She stomped her way toward the door, like I’d give a shit.
A woman’s place in a club owner’s life was always in the background. My clubs came first, no matter what. She was a new club whore with a curvy body, huge tits, a heart-shaped ass, and way too much makeup on her mousy little face. She’d been eye-fucking the shit out of me since she showed up a few days ago. I was never much for dabbling in my club’s bunnies who bounced from one cock to another, but that didn’t stop me from letting them suck my dick.
After the day I’d had, I fucking earned it.
I wasn’t a good man.
I had more enemies than friends.
I was ruthless.
I was feared.
I lived in a dark and seedy world where I was never afraid to get my hands dirty. I didn’t just step into my father’s shadow. I was a Jameson, and with that last name came money, respect, and power. I got whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it.
My father was Creed Jameson, and before him was my grandfather, the prez of Devil’s Rejects, a 1% motorcycle club. They were outlaws up until my old man put him to ground, killing his own flesh and blood and setting the tone for the man I’d become.
I only stepped in and made my presence known if someone dared to cross me or if shit hit the fan in a catastrophic way.
Other than that, I did whatever the fuck I wanted. It was a free-for-all. I always made sure to cover my tracks. The cops’ pockets were greased with dirty money to turn a blind eye to all my illegal activities. Everywhere I went, people looked in the opposite direction and moved the hell out of my way.
The only enemy I had was the law.
My father was a hero of war. A soldier for our country who brought the flag home. It was at his clubhouse, in his office, along with all the other medals he received through his four-year term. My father may have turned his life around and become a law-abiding citizen, but I couldn’t say the same for me.
Although I was raised in a normal, loving home, I decided at a very young age that I didn’t want that cookie-cutter life. Outlaw was in my blood, and I had no fucking problem stepping into my old man’s shoes, so to speak.
Sometimes I killed.
Sometimes I tortured.
Sometimes innocent lives paid the price.
My price.
Just to prove my point.
No one fucked me over and lived to tell the tale. I had no respect or loyalty to anyone but myself and my family. Not once did I ever think about the pain I could be inflicting. About the consequences of my actions and how they’d affect anyone.
Everyone.
I was a diehard biker.
Honorable killer.
After turning eighteen, I spent the past twenty-four years ruling with an iron fist. My future was sealed the first time I tasted blood. I’d seen and done more shit than any mother would ever be proud of, but that never mattered to me. I was thrown in with the wolves too many times to count, just to see if I’d come out alive. I did, and every time, I wore a wide-ass smile on my motherfucking face.