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Ryder: MC Biker Romance (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 8)

Page 16

by Jayne Blue


  “You’re the sexiest wife,” I said after Violet left us to our wedding night. We sat at the picnic table and watched the water. It was the tent, the bike, a fire pit, the lake, and my girl. Pretty fucking awesome, wedding night wise.

  She lifted her lips to mine. She was soft, vulnerable and tasted so good. I slid her from the spot next to me on the picnic bench to my lap. Her hands were wrapped around my neck.

  I splayed my hands across her back and shoulders and felt her arch against me.

  Her lips fit mine like they were made to be there. I pressed her body close to mine as the kissed deepened. The tips of our tongues touched. She made a soft little moan. It drove me crazy. I wanted her naked. I wanted her under me and around me. Always.

  I slid my hands under that SCAD t-shirt and felt the skin on her back. My hands were moving against her skin on their own. I was processing only sensation. I had to feel her everywhere.

  I lifted her hair off her neck and trailed my lips down. That SCAD shirt was coming off. I flung it, but not far, we’d need to find it in the morning. She loved that shirt.

  Then it was her wedding skirt. This beachy thing she’d found in the back of Mom’s shop was now off. I was getting closer.

  We were headed for the tent. I knew we fit perfectly.

  I laid her gently down on the sleeping bag and stared at her perfect body. Goodbye, bra. Goodbye panties too. I slid them all off.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” she whispered as I lay down on her, my skin on hers. I drank her in from chin to Chuck Taylors.

  “No, I want to do it with your Chuck Taylor’s on.”

  “Kinky,” Jules wrapped her legs, Taylors and all, around my waist.

  Married life agreed with me.

  It really did.

  The End.

  If you want to know more about sexy undercover agent, Kyle Duvall (Boone) click here.

  Devil’s Hawk Prez Sonny Maldonado is one bad man. He comes from a very bad family. Read more about the Maldonados in Lincoln!

  Books By Jayne Blue

  Visit http://jayneblue.com for the most up to date book list and buy links!

  Tortured Heroes Series

  The ultimate alpha male protectors, our men in blue.

  Ripper – Agent Kyle Duvall, who you met in Ryder, has a new assignment, protecting a woman who stirs his soul.

  Vice

  Heat

  Hold Trilogy - Meet the sexy alpha MMA fighters of the Great Wolves Gym.

  Ride Trilogy – MMA Fighter Mace Alois has one weakness and it’s his gorgeous new neighbor.

  Ignited - Is Book One in this sexy contemporary series set in a frenzied newsroom. Find your new book boyfriend at WLUV!

  Torrid Trilogy - Sex, murder, politics, and a love that can’t be denied. Lose yourself in the Torrid Trilogy.

  The Great Wolves Motorcycle Club - This MC romance series features hot bikers and the women they love but can’t quite tame.

  Owned Series – Meet Nina Sharpe, pleasure is about to become her business.

  A Note From Jayne Blue

  For exclusive news, a chance to help me design my covers and special offers, sign up for my Jayne Blue’s Newsletter. Your email will never be shared and you may unsubscribe any time you’d like.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review. Reviews help authors like me stay visible and help bring others to my work. Thank you so much.

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  Thank you so much for reading and connecting with me.

  Love you,

  Jayne Blue

  http://www.jayneblue.com/

  jayneblueauthor@gmail.com

  Excerpt from Lincoln

  The Cadillac Motor Court was a one-story, 1950s-era motel. Though it looked old, it was still in decent repair. Someone took good care of it.

  Make that one room. She’d booked us one room. I offered to sleep in the truck, but she was pretty pragmatic about it. It was official. This dame was trying to kill me, one way or another.

  “I need to save money. And don’t worry, I won’t ruin your reputation and tell anyone. You’ve seen me naked. I think you can see me in my jammies.” I stiffened at the thought of her “jammies.” What hell was this going to bring? She changed in the bathroom and came out sporting a huge white t-shirt that came practically to her knees. It had a black “Dunder Mifflin” logo on it. I was expecting some gorgeous Marilyn temptation, and instead, it was a giant t-shirt from The Office.

  She caught what must have been my perplexed expression, “I loved that show! This is my favorite night shirt from it. What?”

  I had decided not to tempt fate and took off my shirt but kept on the jeans. I needed a barrier on the small bed, even if she seemed oblivious to the torture that being this close to her in this situation was going to be for me, for any man. She was supposed to be recovering, not romping around.

  I decided to lie on top of the covers, too.

  “Do you want to watch t.v.?” she asked.

  “Up to you. I don’t really watch t.v.”

  “I love it. How about some Nick at Night?” She plopped herself on the end of the bed and found her channel. Some old t.v. show was playing, and she said it was perfect.

  I closed my eyes and blocked her out, blocked out the damn show, and tried to get a little shut-eye. I fell asleep to the sounds of a laugh track and to little bed bounces she produced as she giggled along with the old sitcom.

  I dreamed of her, how her legs would feel wrapped around me, how I would give her the tenderness I’d seen no one display toward her since we’d met. And then it turned from sweet to hot. I dreamt of her magnificent breast in my mouth, of sinking into her. It was beautiful.

  And then it wasn’t a dream. I awoke and looked down. The television was still on quietly, and it provided a soft illumination in the room. Marilyn was no longer watching. She’d dozed off, and draped herself over me. She had curled one leg into mine. Her shirt had ridden up around her waist, revealing that round ass in the most modest of white cotton underwear. Sexier than any of the thongs I’d seen.

  She had found a spot and rested her head perfectly in the juncture of my neck and shoulder. Her breasts pressed softly through the t-shirt onto my chest. She was peacefully asleep and fit with me like no one I’d ever been with.

  I pulled her closer, one hand resting just inside those cotton panties, just barely. I wouldn’t go further. She moaned in her sleep and snuggled closer in. She nuzzled her lips on my chest and goddamn it then she kissed me. Though she was asleep, she was maybe having the same dream.

  “Hmmm. Lincoln.” She murmured my name in her sleep. If the sitcom actor could see through the decades to right now, through the television screen, he would have seen a contented smile on my face as I too returned to dreamland, wrapped up in her.

  Check out Lincoln McCall’s wild romance!

  Sneak Peek at Nash – A Great Wolf MC Romance

  Ready for your next adventure with the bad boys of the Great Wolves M.C? Good. Don't miss Nash! Prepare to get swept away to the crystalline waters of Florida’s Emerald Coast.

  Jenna - Nash was the outlaw I never should have loved. His touch…hard and tender in all the right ways…rocked me to my core. I didn’t want to leave him but I had no choice. But now, I’ve got nowhere left to run and no one else to turn to. When he finds out I had his baby, all hell’s going to break loose. It’s only a matter of time.

  Nash - When Jenna walked into my bar, I knew what she was after. A good girl gone wild looking for a spring break fling. Yeah, I was down for that. I never planned on letting her get under my skin like she did. I don’t blame her for leaving. She didn’t need some badass biker ruining her plans. My President’s patch comes with a
price she shouldn’t have to pay. But now she’s back and she’s got a secret. So do I. This time, I’m playing for keeps.

  Click here to find out more about Nash!

  Excerpt from Hold Trilogy

  Cassidy

  What do you wear to work when you’re a receptionist at an MMA gym? At the restaurant it was easy, when she bussed tables it was black pants and a t-shirt, and then they gave her a polyester dress to wear after she got promoted to waitress. But now? It’s not like there were many choices. The studio had a small closet and her entire “wardrobe” hung inside along with her coat.

  She did a quick inventory: A couple of pairs of jeans, turtlenecks, a sweater, a dress, and so few pairs of shoes. She could pack her entire closet into one suitcase. The few nice things she had were hand-me-downs. Again she owed Bess. Bess was taller by several inches, but she’d cleaned out her “work” closet and handed the extra clothes to Cassidy. That’s why she even owned a skirt. There was also one dress that Bess insisted on, it was the “little black” dress she wore when she graduated high school and only Bess attended.

  She decided jeans it was if Whitey wanted her to dress nicer he’d tell her. Maybe it was time for a trip to Goodwill for some stuff? Wearing different clothes was an expense she didn’t want to deal with and hadn’t realized she’d face until this very moment.

  It would be a cold walk, but the gym was hot so she went with belted jeans, a blouse, her boots and the duster under her coat. Whitey didn’t seem to be one to worry about that sort of thing so she hoped it was okay.

  Wardrobe handled she rifled through her kitchen, which was really a sink, a mini-stove, and a small fridge. Saving money also meant skipping meals. She’d lost weight in the two weeks since the restaurant closed since she could usually get some free food at that job. Today she had a packet of cup-a-soup and an apple. Free food was definitely something she’d taken for granted after it was gone. She filled a water bottle and figured she was set for the day.

  The GWG was a ten-minute walk. In the daytime, this was no big deal. At night, well, she wouldn’t tell Bess that one.

  Whitey greeted her when she arrived.

  “Good morning girlie,” he said with his gravelly voice as he assessed her desk area.

  “Is eight too late?” She worried since it looked like things were well underway in the gym. Fighters dotted several areas already.

  “I always get in at 5 to open. You can help me by getting in at 8 and staying later than I do to close. I could get home in time to make Mrs. Whitey happy for a change.”

  “Okay.”

  “So here’s the job, most days I’m too busy to tell you what to do. Today I will. After this, you figure it out most of the time.”

  “Got it.”

  “You set these computers up and then these files,” Whitey indicated a file cabinet that was as tall as she was, “They need to be uh, dig ah, digee? What’s the word?”

  “Digitized?”

  “Yep, that paperless thing the GWG bosses want. You’re going to make sure the members’ cards get swiped. That’s new, the cards, and you’ll make sure they’re paid up, handle their forms, answer phones, help get the word out on events and just deal with GWG corporate. My grandson was doing a bunch of this stuff, but he’s got to focus on training. That’s him over there.” Whitey pointed to a short, stocky fighter rapidly hitting a punching bag.

  “Jessie, wave to Cassidy!” Whitey bellowed. The fighter lifted a gloved hand towards her in salute.

  “Now back to work.” Whitey barked at his grandson.

  “We got a lot of siblings, father-son, and such in here, fighting runs in families.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m going to get over to the ring, if you have a question, ask. And here’s the number to the guy to talk to from GWG management, Sawyer. It’s California so they won’t be up for what? Is it three hours? Who the hell knows?”

  “I’ll get going.”

  “Good. There’s a hook over there for your coat. And we got a fridge and microwave in the back. Though it don’t look like you eat at all, girlie.”

  “I do fine.” Whitey narrowed his eyes at her and turned to the two in the ring. It was clear he didn’t miss much.

  “You two. Is that the intensity I can expect today? You look like you’re under water. Step it up.” Whitey walked to the ring and it was then that Cassidy noticed who was in it — Craddock and another guy that looked nearly as dangerous. Most of the men in this placed looked like they could remove your limbs with their bare hands.

  Cassidy watched as the slow sparring Whitey complained about got fast and violent. She was transfixed as Craddock Flynn jabbed and charged while his opponent tried to fend him off. He backed his sparring partner up against the ropes and paused. Craddock looked her right in the eyes and finished it. A punch to the jaw had his sparring partner with his hands up and in what was a purely defensive stance.

  “Okay, okay, no need to kill him. Jonesy, you step over to the bags. Craddock, get some water, then partner up with Jessie after he’s warmed up and work on your holds a little. I want to see if you’re finishing that choke or not.”

  Whitey was barely done giving the orders when Craddock Flynn jumped out of the ring and strode across the gym to where Cassidy was trying to pretend they hadn’t locked eyes.

  “Good morning, Cassidy. You look gorgeous today.”

  “Good morning, and don’t you think gorgeous is a little bit of an overkill in the compliment department?”

  Gorgeous? She blushed pretty much everywhere. This man’s lines worked on her, she realized. Even if she was working hard not to show it.

  “You are. I like your hair like that in a bun, like mine. Though I liked it down yesterday, too.” She touched a tendril that had escaped.

  “You going into hairdressing if this fighting thing doesn’t work out?” She was trying to keep a tough exterior around him. Though he looked like the toughest thing in the city, she had her own brand of tough. She figured she better use it or be another notch on this guy’s fight belt.

  “No. I’m just into your hair. A lot of it there for such a little package underneath.” She was embarrassed. He probably fawned over the big-boobed, booty-shaking types. She was more in the Anna Kendrick size department.

  “I do just fine.”

  “I bet. And you look just fine. See you later, Cassidy. Oh, and thanks for watching me work out. I like it. You looking at me turns me on.” Craddock winked, then turned and headed to the mat where they were working on what was the word? Oh yeah, grappling. She inferred that meant wrestling. He really did love himself. But unfortunately, he was right. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  She spent the morning getting the computer set up. By mid-day, she had it up and running. She took a phone call with the California manager of GWG, Sawyer, on what they wanted regarding membership and other forms online. She even started entering membership information on each fighter who worked out there. Once they were all in, all they’d need is a new magnetic card to swipe.

  Whitey came over at one point to check on her.

  “You came in on the right day. I was getting heat to get this stuff done and now you’re almost finished!”

  “We can start issuing the cards tomorrow and by the end of the week everyone will just swipe and we’ll be able to keep track without all the files cabinets.”

  “Good work. You’re a smart little cookie. Pretty as a picture too. Anyone too fresh?”

  “No, sir. I’m fine.” She decided not to let him know that Craddock kept catching her eye and looked like he would eat her alive. Along with that, she’d had winks from quite a few of the other guys, the terms sweetheart, hottie, and darling were flung at her from all directions. She decided it was part of the job and harmless. She’d told them her name was Cassidy, not sweet cheeks, and that usually took care of it. Except in Craddock’s case.

  At around 1 p.m. she realized she hadn’t eaten and laid her little lunch out on t
he desk as she continued to enter the gym members into the new database she’d set up with the GWG guidelines. There were about 100 members, mostly men, but a few badass women. She may need to watch them a little closer too, badassery could come in handy in this place, she thought.

  Cassidy jumped in her chair a little when Zeke Powell pounced over and sat on the side of her desk. He had his own lunch in hand and a mouth full of food. Powell’s light hair and skin were the perfect counterpoint to Craddock’s dark hair and deeper skin tone. They were opposite and the same in a lot of ways. While Craddock had tats on his back, Zeke Powell had just one, a cross, on his shoulder. He was the cleanest cut of the bunch, she’d decided.

  “I thought we’d have a lunch date together,” Zeke said between bites.

  “Oh really?” Somehow his hitting on her was less laden with sex. It was a relief to some degree. Zeke, while just as muscle-bound as Craddock, didn’t act like he was picturing her naked.

  “Not exactly doing a good job of a balanced lunch there, Cassidy.” Zeke smiled at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. She liked him.

  “I suppose not. What’s your lunch today?”

  “Two turkey sandwiches on rye, two apples, a bag of chips, don’t tell Whitey, and a cookie. Also, half a gallon of Gatorade. My momma knows what I like.”

  “Well, you’re lucky, then. What does momma or daddy do?”

  “He’s a pastor and she’s the pastor’s wife. Sort of a full-time job, too.”

  “I see, and you beat people up for a living? Not too Christian of you.” Cassidy took a sip of her water bottle.

 

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