But there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of Sydney.
Now, I was twenty-six. Sergeant at Arms of The Road Rebels motorcycle club. I wanted to make sure nothing like that night ever happened again. I maintained order and security, making sure our members were safe, and their children never lost their parents before their time to leave. Sydney had been out of my life for almost six years, but I could still feel her at my side every night. I could still feel her warmth wrapped around my body. I could still smell her musky scent mixed with this cotton candy bullshit she used to spray on herself every now and again.
How I missed the way, her fingernails raked down my arms when we made love.
Sure, I’d been with other women. I wasn’t gonna deprive myself of the soft curves a woman’s body had to offer. But no one compared to her. The way Sydney’s body molded to mine after sex couldn’t be matched. It was like we simply bled together, our lines blurring into one another’s while we slept. Her sounds were unmatched. Her little groans and moans that turned to full-on wails of pleasure as I plunged in and out of her body.
None of these women and their pussies held a candle to the way Sydney’s body made me feel.
Orgasms were half-assed, and I didn’t care if they got theirs. I’d get them some food, tell them how beautiful they were, and I wouldn’t even take all my clothes off to do what I wanted to do. There wasn’t a point to it. I was done trying to chase what Sydney had provided for me all those years ago and simply settled for… well… settling.
People in the club told me I wouldn’t find myself a nice girl to fuck regularly if I continued down my path, but that’s what they didn’t understand.
I didn’t want a nice girl.
I wanted Sydney.
I heavy knock reverberated around the main lodge. I sighed, pulling myself from Sydney’s father’s desk as I rolled my shoulders back. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in and congregate today, especially since there was some fucking beach bash on the West Coast everyone wanted to go to.
But the knocking got more frantic, and I started to wonder if someone had gotten into trouble.
Had there been another shootout? Was someone dead? Had someone gotten into a crash? All these questions flooded my mind as I reached for the door and swung it open. But nothing in my wildest dreams could’ve prepared me for what was standing right in front of me.
A woman, with beautiful long, auburn hair and blue eyes whose curves took my breath away. Her eyes were heavy with sorrow and exhaustion, but the sparkle behind them was unmistakable. Her long neck tapered into a broad set of shoulders that held up voluptuous tits, and her waist dipped in before flaring out into a wide set of hips I’d buried my fingertips into so many times before.
“Sydney,” I whispered.
And then, a small little voice caught my ear. I looked down to see a little girl holding Sydney’s hand, and all I could do was gawk. She had to be no more than five, with long auburn hair just like her mother’s. She had freckles on her cheeks and nose that matched those of the woman whose hand she was holding, but it was her eyes that struck me the most.
Her eyes weren’t blue like her mother’s.
The girl’s eyes were green… like mine.
Want more of Hawk? You can get him here FOR FREE!
More Books by Savannah Rylan
Series
Jace (The Black Hornets MC #1)
Maverick (The Black Hornets MC #2)
Duke (The Black Hornets MC #3)
Colt (The Black Hornets MC #4)
Thor (The Black Hornets MC #5)
Jagger (The Black Hornets MC #6)
Knox (Dead Souls MC #1)
Grave (Dead Souls MC #2)
Brewer (Dead Souls MC #3)
Rock (Dead Souls MC #4)
Diesel (Deal Souls MC #5)
Girth (Marked Skulls MC #1)
Rodeo (Marked Skulls MC #2)
Abe (Marked Skulls MC #3)
Oz (Marked Skulls MC #4)
Dash (Marked Skulls MC #5)
Hawk (The Road Rebels MC #1)
Talon (The Road Rebels MC #2)
Snake (The Road Rebels MC #3)
Fox (The Road Rebels MC #4)
Gunner (The Bad Disciples MC #1)
Hunter (The Bad Disciples MC #2)
Tank (The Bad Disciples MC #3)
Glock (The Bad Disciples MC #4)
About the Author
Savannah Rylan is a romance writer that spends most of her time writing and reading with her cat, Gris. When not penning the next great American novel, (HA), you can find her on the beach with a drink in her hand or at the gym testing out some strange new position. Yoga, obviously. She lives in Southern California with her husband and Gris, the true love of her life.
You can join her mailing list here!
Check out her website!
Marco Page 6
