Moon’s Promise – The Last Riders Read Online Jamie Begley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Crime, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 189
Estimated words: 181808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 909(@200wpm)___ 727(@250wpm)___ 606(@300wpm)
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As she washed her hands, Larissa decided she would grab Lana and Priscilla if they were out of the restroom and leave. She really didn’t want to get caught in the middle of an argument if Winter’s husband showed up and found his club had been invaded by a group of women who were drunk off their asses.

When she left the restroom, she noticed one the doors along the hallway was open and the light was on. There was no way to get to the stairway without passing the open doorway. Remembering Winter saying no one was allowed upstairs without a club member accompanying them, she hoped to rush past and hit the stairs before whoever was inside caught her.

As she passed the open door, she cast a quick glance inside, nearly stumbling over her own two feet when she saw a couple inside having intercourse. The man was lying on his back, and the woman was grinding herself up and down on his shaft. The woman’s back was toward her and blocking her sight of the man as she stood there, gawking at them.

The uninhibited way they were having sex shocked her. Plus the fact that they had left the door wide open, uncaring if anyone could see what they were doing. Since she had never been around any bikers personally, the only impressions she had of them came from the news, or books. Both conveyed they were wild, violent, and sexually easy, but Larissa, nor neither of her sisters, based their opinions on anything other than how they were treated. One thing was for sure: she would be giving Lana a heads-up before she went pursuing the man from the bar.

As she stood frozen in place, her heart lurched when she noticed a door next to the one she was staring in begin to open.

Blankly, she watched as the door started to open wider. Then, like an anxious rabbit caught in a headlight, she reacted without thinking.

Frantically, she spotted a door on the other side the hallway that was partially open with the lights off, and she rushed inside and closed the door behind her.

Pressing her face to the door, she listened for who had come out the bedroom to leave so she could make her way back downstairs.

“Do me a favor and take my boots off.”

Larissa barely managed to cut off the gasp of dismay with her hand at the low voice coming from behind her.

Frozen in place yet again, she lowered her hand from her mouth to the doorknob.

“Come on.” His grave voice sent tingles down her spine.

Tightening her hand on the doorknob, she prepared to sling the door open and take off running in a ten-second dash.

“Fuck it. Just turn the light on, and I’ll do it myself.”

As she turned the knob, she heard voices outside coming from whoever was in the hallway. The low timber of two males’ voices and a woman’s plaintive cries of sexual ecstasy had Larissa wanting to melt in embarrassment.

“Are you going to turn the light on or not?”

There was no way she was going to step into that hallway, nor was there any way she was going to turn any lights on either.

Left with the only option available to her, she followed the sound of his voice, moving toward where she hoped he was. She bumped into what she assumed was his bed and ran her hand over the cover until her fingers felt denim and what she thought might be the hardness of his knee. Swallowing hard, all the while telling herself she was out of her ever-loving mind, she ran her hand down his denim-covered leg until she felt leather. She cupped her hand under the hard sole, then used her other hand to wrap around the back of the boot to pull it off. The boot slid off easily. Relieved, she searched blindly in the dark for his other leg. Her hand landed on a hard, muscled thigh underneath his jeans. Shakily, she slid her hand down his leg to find the boot.

“Hurry up, Ember. My feet are freezing. I should have worn thicker socks.”

Desperate to get out of the room, she removed the boot then started to heave herself to her feet so she could make her escape. Surely, the couple across the hall would be finished.

As she started to straighten, the man wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck.

Bent over, she was so close to him that she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips.

“Thanks. My feet are so cold I couldn’t get them off.”

She grew concerned despite wanting to get out of there, and her healing instinct wouldn’t let her abandon him without making sure he was okay.

Going back to her knees, she found one of his feet. Whoever he was, he wasn’t exaggerating. The sock was damp and freezing. Removing the sock, she searched for his other foot and removed that sock, too, then tucked a chilled foot between her thighs to warm it while she started massaging the chilled flesh of the other.


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