Needing Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation #6) Read Online Jordan Marie

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, MC Tags Authors: Series: Savage Brothers Second Generation Series by Jordan Marie
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
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I wasn’t going to confess to him, however. I was serious with Thea. I want us to mend fences and become friends. If I find an opening into more? I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I won’t stab my brother in the back, though. Despite my past, that’s not who I am. I know others think I’m lying when I tell them I legitimately did not realize that Gabby was stringing both me and Thomas along. Sadly, I’m not. I knew Thomas had feelings for her, sure. Gabby, however, promised that she told him they were just friends and that she was dating someone else. I was wrong by not just telling T outright that Gabby and I were together. I can admit that. I didn’t want to hurt him. However, if I had known that Gabby was lying to me and had kissed my brother and was keeping him as an option? I would have ended things with her and never looked back. Since the club now knows what happened with Gabby, I’m hearing more and more rumors that she fucked someone else, too. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother me she fucked around on me. By the time those rumors came out, nothing to do with that woman surprised me. I just found myself wondering how I got so lost when it came to her.

Honestly, when I look back on our relationship, I realize that I never did publicly claim her as mine. Maybe there was a part of me that knew it would be the wrong thing to do—self-preservation if you will. Whatever the reason, it is in my past. I haven’t heard a word from her since that day in the motel and honestly, I’ll be glad if I never do. Something about that night doesn’t sit well with me. It could be because I was drunk off my ass and don’t remember shit about it. I haven’t drunk, but an occasional beer here or there, since that night. I’ve vowed that I’m never going to get drunk again, and I mean to stick to it. I won't let myself lose control again.

I take Thea on old Route 25. She has no idea where we’re going, and that makes me smile. I drive down the road, taking her into East Bernstadt. Then, I follow the curves and turns until I get to what I want to show her.

I turn onto Cliff’s Edge Road, and then drive until I get to a graveled drive where recent dozer work has been done. I stop in the empty area and cut off my bike.

“What’s this place?” she asks.

“Get off and I’ll show you,” I respond with a grin.

“Yeah, about that. My leg is feeling a little stiff. I’m not sure standing is going to be easy without my cane.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Thea,” I mutter, feeling like an idiot. “Hold on a second.”

I manage to maneuver off my bike without hitting her in the head with my boot. It wasn’t the most graceful of exits, but I did it. I take her arms and pull them up to my neck.

“Dom—”

“Wrap your arms around me. I got you.”

She gives me a look of disgust, but she doesn’t argue with me. I lift her off the bike with her hands connected at the back of my neck, while one of my hands is under each of her thighs. My cock apparently is enjoying remembering my dreams because the asshole is hard and threatening to show Thea all my dirty secrets I have hidden when it comes to her. That’s something neither one of us is ready to address—despite Breaker giving me the green light. I let her go enough so that she can stand, but I keep my hands on her hips until she’s steady.

“Thanks,” she mutters, embarrassment clear on her face.

“You okay?” I ask, gently, feeling her body quiver under my touch. I really should have thought this over before putting her on my bike. I know her leg gives her trouble and pain.

“I’m fine,” she says, standing back and creating space between us.

“I’m sorry. I should have thought ahead. I just thought you would enjoy riding the bike. I know you used to ride with your dad all the time.”

“I do love riding. It’s fine, honest,” she responds, even managing to give me a smile. Her response just manages to make me worry more, though.

“Has your leg gotten worse? I don’t remember you having this much trouble when you’d come to the house with Bull or Breaker.”

“No. Dad put special bars on the back of his bike that allow me to stretch out my bad leg. Mattie did something similar. Still, I’m fine. The muscle damage is pretty bad, so if I hold my leg at a certain angle, they tighten up more.”


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