Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Pampered and protected from the moment I was born, I walked through the gates of the Screaming Eagles MC on a dare and wobbled out the next morning after four sexy men blew my innocent mind. It should’ve ended there.
I didn’t count on the baby.
Everyone knows bikers and Mafia don’t get along. Think Montagues and Capulets. Red Sox and Yankees. Werewolves and Vampires. You get the picture. To prevent a full on war, I kept my little girl a secret, but when betrayal comes from within the Family, that’s no longer an option.
Now there are only four men I can trust.
Viking meets everything in life head on, shirtless and commanding my body as expertly as he does his men.
Bear is built big and burly like his namesake. Wrapped in his powerful arms, I’m safe from everything but the lust that burns between us.
Snark is the smartest man I’ve ever met, with a quick wit and a clever tongue that makes me scream with pleasure.
And Hawk—quiet and dangerous Hawk—the hot, sinful things he does would make me run if I wasn’t already tied down.
When my secret gets out and war is inevitable, someone’s going to get hurt.
But it won’t be our little girl.
My four protectors will make sure of that.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
1
ALESSA
“Alessa, come on. Or are you going to chicken out?” Beatrice drags me through the night towards the front gate of a fenced compound in the middle of South Side. It looks like something out of Mad Max. Surrounded by tall metal fences with barbed wire running along the top is a building that towers over it. The massive logo on the front, lit up by spotlights, reads in large capitals, “Screaming Eagles MC.”
A shiver of excitement slithers down my back. I really shouldn't be here. Neither should Bea, but that doesn’t stop her from hauling me along like she's late for a date.
“I'm not chicken, Bea, but if they find out who we are—”
“They won't,” she says with a patronizing eye roll. “How would they? Are you going to tell them?”
“Of course not. Fine. Let's go.” I tear my arm from her grasp, then hustle forward as quickly as I can without toppling off my heels. I refuse to be the scaredycat here.
The guys watching the gate tower over us, and I'm not even that short. Leather jackets with the sleeves torn off stretch across their broad chests, and they grin like foxes watching a pair of chickens walk right into their den.
The guy on the right, has a red bandanna wrapped around his forehead, and the grip of a pistol peeking out from his belt. A gaze made of pure sex rakes us up and down. I resist the urge to tug on my too-short skirt. When Bea promised me a wild night, I didn't think it was going to be by crashing a biker party, but I'm sure as hell not going to be the first to back down. “Dress like a slut,” had been my only instruction before we left, and from the way this guy is basically fucking me with his eyes, I think I succeeded.
“I don't recognize you girls,” grunts the one on the left. He's making no secret of checking out Bea's ass. “New to the slut game?”
I bristle at the s-word, but Bea ran me through a primer of biker terms on the way here so I could sound like I knew what I was talking about. No idea where she learned it, but I blame the wrong kinds of novels, or maybe the right ones. Most of what she said went in one ear and out the other, but I do remember that the women who hang around these guys are either old ladies—claimed by a biker as his woman—or sluts. So I guess that makes us sluts tonight. I'm not sure I can call myself that out loud, though.
I shiver again at the thought of us even being here. When Bea said wild, she really didn't explain how wild until it was too late to back down.
“First time here, at least,” replies Bea, brazenly looking him right in the eyes, like we do this all the time. “We heard that no one fucks like a Screaming Eagle, so we thought we'd come find out if it was true.”
“Fuck,” groans the guy with the bandanna. He adjusts himself shamelessly through his pants, and from the looks of it, there's plenty to adjust. “I drew the wrong night to be on gate duty, that's for fucking sure. I'd give you a demonstration right here, but Eagle-eye would murder me.” He sighs, and gestures at the main building, where a metal staircase leads up to an open front door. Loud music blares out, and I can only imagine how loud it's going to be on the inside. “Fine. Go on in.”
Bea smirks up at him. “Maybe once you're done with your shift, you could look me up.”
“Bea!” I hiss. Man, she's totally pulling out all the stops tonight.
The biker grins back, and to be honest, he's got a nice smile. She could do a lot worse.
Still, I take the lead, summoning the courage to put a little extra wiggle in my step that makes one of the biker guards behind me whistle appreciatively. I try to forget how dangerous this actually is for us.
You see, if there’s one thing the Mafia in this town hates, it’s bikers, and let's just say the feeling is mutual. My father is as Sicilian as they get. We spell Family with a capital F, and our Family rules over Blackworth, Uppington and Little Italy—basically the whole east side of the city. Dad would have a heart attack if he knew Bea and I were slumming it down in South Side.
“You're looking hot,” encourages Bea as she wobbles her way up the stairs next to me, our heels ringing hollowly on the metal steps. “If Dario was here, he'd shove a burlap sack over your head and throw you into his car to take you home.”
“Don't remind me. I'm here to have a good time, not think about real life. Just celebrate the end of freshman year, and it’d be nice if you didn’t remind me of what’s waiting at home. We’re here to be a little wild, remember?” I throw her words back at her. College is fun, but too many people know me there. If anything too crazy gets back to my family, they'll pull me right out.