Romeo (Blood Fury MC #12.5) Read Online Jeanne St. James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, MC Tags Authors: Series: Blood Fury MC Series by Jeanne St. James
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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“To fuck.”

No, it was more than that. “You came to my job and pretended to have an injury so you could fuck me again? Of course you didn’t. One didn’t have anything to do with the other. You said you wanted to protect me. That’s not typical behavior for someone who prefers one-night stands.”

He sucked on his teeth loud enough for her to hear it.

Did he not like being in the hot seat? Huh. Pity.

She added, “And don’t give me that bullshit excuse about the Fury being an ally, Rome.”

“Ain’t an excuse when it’s fuckin’ true.”

“Okay,” came out on a sigh.

“Okay what?”

She shrugged. “Just okay.”

His expression turned hard, leading her to believe that he didn’t like that response. Most likely because he realized it was her attempt to end that line of conversation.

It was obvious he was only using the Knights alliance with the Fury as an excuse. Because if he was really worried about her situation, as the Knights’ president, he could have easily reached out to Trip, the Blood Fury’s president, and shared his concerns.

Would she have been pissed about him doing so? Of course. Because like him showing up as a fake patient at Smith’s, Romeo was still sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Despite his opinion on it.

Despite her telling him multiple times to mind his own business.

When he stood and took a couple of steps away from the bed, she figured he was leaving. At least until he stopped.

Once again, she focused on the back of his cut, a harsh reminder of who and what he was.

That ended up being a fleeting thought when her gaze drifted down to his ass and she had a flashback of her fingers digging deep into his well-developed glutes, experiencing the power behind each forceful pump.

Her pussy pulsed at that particular memory, plus everything else that happened while they were naked.

The truth was, she didn’t want him to leave.

Not yet, anyway.

Was that selfish? Possibly. But she couldn’t imagine that Romeo would say no if she asked him to stay. “Are you leaving?”

He turned, wearing a scowl. “Want me to leave?”

“Isn’t that why you got up?”

“Got up to take off all this shit.”

Well then…

In this case, she didn’t mind being wrong.

However… she wondered how often Romeo got fully naked with his conquests or if she was a special case. She was afraid if she asked, it might bring them back to their previous conversation. Not only was that conversation beating a dead horse, she preferred to get to where they weren’t having any conversation at all.

The whole reason they were in her bedroom.

It was also safer that way since, apparently, they didn’t see eye to eye on certain topics. One being her personal life.

“Do you need help?” she offered. “I’m available and eager to assist.”

“All that chili made me pretty fuckin’ tired, so could use the help.”

She liked the direction of this conversation a whole lot better. He probably did, too. “Do you at least have enough strength to take off your boots?”

“Probably can manage that.”

She definitely preferred this playful teasing over the more serious stuff. Plus, the fact he could lighten up made him even more attractive in her eyes.

After unlacing his boots and yanking them off, his socks quickly followed. She was pleasantly surprised that they didn’t have any holes with his little piggies jutting out.

Of course, that thought led her to wondering if he shopped for his own clothes or if he sent one of the club girls to pick him up packs of socks and boxer briefs. If they did his laundry, Maddie wouldn’t doubt they went that extra mile for the Knights’ prez.

She would never understand a sweet butt’s need to please these bikers, despite being treated like indentured servants. The reality was, they chose to live that lifestyle and none that she knew were being held against their will.

Once he was barefooted, he held his arms up and out to the side in an unspoken message for her to take over.

She would be happy to do so.

She got to her feet and walked slowly toward him, deciding where to start.

His cut, of course. A biker’s pride and joy. Also as important as his sled since it was proof of his brotherhood and his way of life. His cut defined him.

“Turn around.”

When he did, she slid her hands up his arms and under the shoulders of the leather vest before carefully slipping it off. The heaviness of the gun was unmistakable, and most likely hidden somewhere in the liner.

“Careful with that.”

“With that comment, I’ll assume it really is locked and loaded.”

“Ain’t worth shit otherwise.”

She went over and hung his cut on the hook attached to the back of her bedroom door. When she turned, he was watching her intently with his expression blank and his dark eyes unreadable.


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