Rooster – Satan’s Fury MC – SG Read Online L. Wilder

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Drama, Erotic, MC, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
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The next morning, I woke to a blanket of snow on the ground, and while it was beautiful, I dreaded taking Paisley out. She wasn’t a fan of the cold and was even less of a fan of snow and ice. I forced the covers back and pulled on my boots and coat. After much urging, I finally convinced Paisley to go outside and take care of her business. She bounded back inside, and I got busy preparing for my night, First, I delved into my closet and started searching for something to wear. I wanted to look nice, but I didn’t want to overdo it.

After getting Paisley’s approval, I decided on a pair of comfy jeans and an oversized sweater.

I tossed them on the bed and then headed into the kitchen to start meal-prepping. I did all the dicing, slicing, and marinating, and by the time I was done, it was time to get in the shower. I was feeling pretty good about things until I started getting dressed. There was something about seeing myself with my hair and makeup done that filled me with nerves. It had been years since I’d dressed up for a man—at least, not one I wasn’t married to, and it was freaking me out.

I kept studying myself in the mirror, and the longer I stood there critiquing myself, the more inclined I was to change. That would seem simple enough, but if I changed even once, I would change a hundred times. Knowing I would just end up making myself crazy, I forced myself away from the mirror and went into the kitchen for a glass of wine.

I poured half a glass, then quickly downed it. I’d just poured me another when Paisley started barking, and there was a tap at my front door. My pulse quickened as I put the bottle down and adjusted the hem of my sweater. I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping it would settle my nerves.

It didn’t.

If anything, it made it worse.

Now, I had to worry about smelling like a boozehound when I greeted him. I pushed the thought from my head and rushed over to answer the door. I peeked out the window, and a rush of excitement surged through me when I spotted Ronin standing on my front step. He was wearing a dark plaid flannel that hugged his bulging muscles with the same leather vest he’d been wearing when he helped me with my car and a pair of dark jeans and boots. The man looked positively divine.

I took a moment to savor the view, then stepped back to open the door.

I pushed the dog back, then turned the knob and smiled as I greeted him. “Hey. You made it.”

“Of course.” His eyes skirted over me, sending chills down my spine. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Well, come on in.”

I don’t know which turned me on more—his cologne or his sexy little smirk. Both were quite the turn-on, and I feared I would have a difficult time keeping my hormones in check. Paisley was also intrigued by our guest and had commenced to jumping up on him, sniffing him from every angle. He gave her a friendly pat as he said, “Well, hello there.”

“Paisley, down!” I quickly closed the door then rushed over and grabbed her by the collar. “I’m sorry. She’s not the best about meeting new people.”

“I don’t know. She didn’t bite me, so I’d say she did pretty well.” He took a quick glance around. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” I motioned him into the living room as I asked, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure. A beer or whatever you’re having will be fine.”

“You got it.” I walked over to the fridge and grabbed him a cold beer, then carried it over to him. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.” He popped the top as he motioned his head towards the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, I’ve got it.” I poured some wine into my glass as I told him, “The chicken needs a few more minutes.”

“No rush.” He sat down at the counter and glanced over at my pictures on the fridge. “Those your kids?”

“They are.” I reached for the most recent picture and brought it closer. “Nathan is almost thirteen, and Samantha is eleven.”

“Your daughter looks just like ya.”

“Thank you. I love her dearly, but she can be a handful.” I placed the picture back on the fridge as I added, “I shouldn’t complain. When I was a kid, I was a handful, too.”

“I’m going to need a little clarification on handful.”

“Oh, I wasn’t that bad.” I chuckled under my breath. “I mean, not really. I had a little bit of a smart mouth at times, but that was only because I was determined not to fall under the shadow of my brothers. They were always right about everything, and... Anyway, I can still remember my mother saying that she hoped that I’d have a daughter who was just like me, and I’m afraid she’s about to get that wish.”


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