Scars of Yesterday (Sons of Templar MC #8) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
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But it was starting to become more than just sex I was addicted to. It was Kace. The fact that he was easy to be with, gentle with me when we had our clothes on, but then was beautifully brutal in the bedroom. I needed to take charge of my life, feel like I had agency, make my kids think I had everything under control.

There was also a part of me that craved having someone else to control me. To take charge of me. Kace did that. And I fucking loved it.

Until reality came knocking at my door.

“I have to answer it,” I said firmly, moving quickly from the bed. He let me, though, I knew he didn’t want to. “You need to stay in here.” I pointed at him sternly to make my point.

He moved to sit up in bed, not bothering to cover himself up with the sheet. Kace was not at all modest about his body, and he didn’t need to be, he was nothing short of perfect.

Sure, there was a darkness about him. A damage to him that he’d told me about the first night me met. But I was careful not to delve into that side of him. I couldn’t. As perfect as he was on the surface, I had managed to keep my distance from his soul. If I truly got to know his scars, his imperfections, I’d be in too deep. I’d want to know his pain. Want to wear his scars.

“Hiding me in the bedroom like I’m your mistress?” he taunted, his eyes twinkling with humor.

I scowled at him, not bothering to answer. The joke hit me somewhere deep inside. Ranger was dead. Long dead and gone. This wasn’t cheating on him. This wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was logical to think that. Gwen hadn’t judged me, nor had Evie, but then again, that wasn’t exactly their style. Despite the fact I knew that women and men were allowed to move on after their spouse died, that it was healthy, I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to be healthy. Didn’t want to move on. But the man laying naked in my bed was proof I didn’t want to stay where I was either.

I hurriedly threw on my clothes, forgetting my underwear in my rush. My hair definitely looked like I’d been well fucked, so I did my best to finger brush it on my way to the door. Hopefully I’d be able to convince Mia or whoever it was that I wasn’t doing anything suspect. Which was a fool’s hope, since she was totally going to notice all the signs of a woman who’d just been screwed.

What a hole I’d dug for myself.

I opened the door, already trying to find a suitable excuse for my friend, when I was faced with someone I hadn’t expected.

“Edmond,” I breathed out. “Um, hi.”

His eyes flickered over me before settling on my eyes. He was, of course, in what looked like an expensive suit, no tie, his hair in order, holding two coffees.

“I know it’s exceptionally bad form to show up the day after a date, especially when you haven’t called me back yet, but I figured coffee from your favorite place and muffins may get me some points?” He held the bag up with a sheepish grin.

I gritted my teeth. Though I’d never agreed with her before, I found myself thinking like my mother. Being pissed like she would be at the audacity of someone—a male potential love interest no less—arriving on my doorstep without notice.

Even if I didn’t have a naked biker in my bed, this would’ve pissed me off. No matter how nice and well-groomed Edmond seemed, it was out of line, taking the choice away from me. It was up to me whether I wanted to see him again. It was certainly up to me whether I invited him to my house. This felt oddly aggressive.

“I knew the kids would be at school,” Edmond continued when I didn’t answer. “So I figured it would be safe to come.” He laughed, and there was a slight awkwardness to it. He felt uncomfortable. Good. He should.

“I don’t think there’s ever a safe time to come to my home unannounced, Edmond,” I said, my voice icy. I’d planned on being polite, warm, hoping to push him into the friendzone. Maybe I was overreacting to this. But my home was my space. My safe place. My kid’s safe place. Some man wanting to get laid because he’d bought me coffee and a fucking muffin had no right to come here.

That was the problem with men like Edmond with their expensive suits, overpowering cologne and straight white teeth. They thought they had the right to do whatever they pleased.

Something moved across his face, rippling through the pleasantness like a stone on a lake. He was pissed at my response. Of course he was. He wasn’t used to women speaking up. They were either charmed by him or too polite to set him straight.


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