by Nikki Wild
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Prologue
Biker Daddy
Nikki Wild
Meg Jackson
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Saved by the Bad Boy
Mailing List
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Join the WILD LIST!
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Novels by Nikki Wild
PULSE
A little preview…
1. Saffron
2. Sawyer
3. Saffron
4. Sawyer
5. Saffron
6. Sawyer
7. Saffron
8. Sawyer
9. Saffron
10. Sawyer
11. Saffron
12. Sawyer
13. Saffron
14. Sawyer
15. Saffron
16. Sawyer
17. Saffron
18. Sawyer
19. Saffron
20. Sawyer
21. Saffron
22. Sawyer
23. Saffron
24. Sawyer
25. Saffron
ARROGANT BRIT!
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
NIKKI WILD
Other Novels by Nikki Wild
Rock Hard
NIKKI WILD
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
NIKKI WILD
Other Novels by Nikki Wild
Illicit Behavior
1. ILLICIT BEHAVIOR
2. Angel
3. Trent
4. Angel
5. Trent
6. Angel
7. Trent
8. Angel
9. Trent
10. Angel
11. Trent
12. Angel
13. Trent
14. Angel
15. Trent
16. Angel
17. Trent
18. Angel
19. Trent
20. Angel
21. Trent
22. Angel
23. Trent
24. Angel
25. Trent
26. Angel
27. Trent
28. Angel
29. Trent
30. Angel
31. Trent
32. Angel
33. Trent
34. Angel
35. Trent
36. Angel
37. One Year Later
NIKKI WILD
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Other Novels by Nikki Wild
Taking Beauty
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
>
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
CLAIMING BEAUTY IS AVAILABLE NOW!
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Prologue
"You're holding that stick all sorts of wrong, honey."
The voice was husky. Gruff and husky and deep enough to spark a shock up my spine. Turning, I got an eyeful of man; and what an eyeful it was. He had a five o’clock shadow, long blonde hair, and gray eyes. I shit you not – gray, straight-from-the-steel-mill eyes.
"What's that?" I asked, daring my heart to stop beating so fast. I knew it wasn't the vodka - I'm basically immune to the stuff. No, it was him. He was a much stronger drink than the one I was drinking.
"You're holding it wrong," he said. He sat on a stool, his elbows on the bar, eyes dancing over my body.
"Hey, man, we're kind of doing a thing over here," Ilya said. Oh, right. My date. I was on a date.
"Well, the thing you're doing would be done better if she knew how to hold the cue stick," the stranger said, easing himself off the stool easy as a cat slinking off a cushion. "Come here, honey."
I shouldn't. It would be unfair to Ilya. And myself - I knew damn well that even a second in this man's arms would bring me nothing but grief.
"Man, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ilya slammed his cue down on the table behind him and stalked around the green velvet table. Poor Ilya. That stalk became a stumble when he realized just how big this guy was. Ilya had more in common with a toothpick than a prizefighter. Nice guy, though, and that’s what mattered, right? At least, that's what Alexei thought. He was the one who set me up, of course.
"May I?" The stranger ignored Ilya entirely and came up behind me. Before I could stop him - or myself - he had his arms on either side of me, one hand reaching down for the pool cue in my hand. My breath left in one huge gasp when our flesh finally made contact. And then he was bending me over. Yes. Yes. Yes.
No. No. No. Not tonight. This wasn't good. I glanced at Ilya, whose eyes were bugging out of his head, his face red as the devil with a sunburn.
"See, you're gonna use your hip to..."
I bit my lip as he shifted, showing me how to throw my weight.
"Use the cue like the sights on a gun," he continued, whispering in my ear. He was close enough to hear my heartbeat. Close enough to feel how hot my blood was running. Luckily, I was close enough to feel the same things happening in his body. That levelled the field a little bit.
Click.
It was a beautiful shot. Clean and steady, sinking two solids in a corner pocket. He lingered a little longer than necessary before detaching his body from mine. When he did, I felt cold.
"Great," Ilya scowled. "Thanks for the tips. Now do you mind?"
"You like this guy?" The stranger looked down on me with a smirk on his face. Cocky, I thought, knowing that should turn me off but also knowing it was just the kind of thing that turned me on.
"Yeah, I do," I lied, for Ilya's sake. Inside, I was screaming: take me out of here, get me out of this damn date, buy me a fucking drink and make a move...
"No, you don't," he chuckled.
"Shit," Ilya had just about had it. And that was bad. Because if Alexei heard about this...suffice to say, muscle is all well and good, but it doesn't do much when you're facing down the barrel of a gun.
"Please," I said, turning to the stranger and putting my hand on his chest. "You really have to go, okay? Thanks for the tip."
He frowned, glancing over my head at Ilya, who was pulling his phone out.
"Please," I said, leaning in, trying to get him to see the warning in my eyes. Instead, he licked his lips and grinned.
"A girl like you tends to get what she wants, huh?" he said. "And you want me gone. Alright."
He caught Ilya's eye, then leaned in to whisper in my ear. His hot breath stirred a terrible wind in my chest and made my thighs clench.
"When you're done with him, come find me," he said. And then he reached around, slipped his hand on my ass, and gave me a squeeze.
So I slapped him.
You think I would take that kind of thing just because I was deathly attracted to him?
He laughed it off, holding his hand on the red mark on his cheek.
"Thatta girl," he said, then looked at Ilya again. Ilya was shaking, but he wasn't calling Alexei, so that was good. "See ya, pal."
It occurred to me that Ilya saw Mr. Tall, Blond, and Ripped squeeze my derriere and didn't do a damn thing about it. I guess he thought my slap was enough. And to be fair, he wouldn't stand a chance against my pool tutor. Left a bad taste in my mouth, though. Worse than the ass-squeeze itself, which I was sure I'd be replaying in my mind later that night, long after Ilya dropped me off at home all safe and sound. He certainly wasn’t getting any from me. He barely had a chance to begin with, but now he would have to invent a trans-dimensional spaceship and try to find an alternate universe where this whole incident never happened if he wanted to get in my pants.
As quickly as he made himself known, the stranger made himself scarce. I don't know how he expected me to "come find him" - except that the last thing I saw of him was the patch on the back of his leather jacket. A pretty familiar one, given the club's clout around town. He was with the Rogue Tide Motorcycle Club, which existed in a tenuous harmony with my own family. Huh. I guess it wasn't too surprising - those boys were famous for being rowdy, cocky, and good in bed.
"Lucya," Ilya barked my name and I spun around. "Are you okay? That guy..."
"Was just a jerk," I said, waving it off. "I'm fine."
"I'm sorry I didn't..."
He shrugged, blushing.
"Don't worry," I said, leaning over to resume the game, since I didn't want to linger on the subject of men I'd rather be on a date with. "I'm of the opinion that guys who fight usually have big balls but little dicks."
That was a lie. The cue ball made a satisfying click as it bounced another solid into the corner pocket.
Chapter 1
Five Years Later
Sinner
Train and Pony stood at the front of the room, as they always did during church. Train, our president, wore a scowl accentuated by the scar that ran down his cheek. Pony, our VP, was no prettier. Me and the other 19 members of the Rogue Tide sat in the clubhouse's biggest room; a mural on the far wall showed our club emblem, a blue wave circled in gold, and the names of all members past and present. At least, the names of our chapter. The founding chapter. We had boys in Connecticut in Maine, but the Rogue Tide got its start right here in Vernon, Massachusetts.
"We gotta get rid of this shit fast," Pony was saying. "I want those prospects working every hour of every day. I don't give a fuck if they have to go all the way to Schoonerville to get it off our hands."
"More trouble than it's worth," Spit grumbled from behind me.
"That ain't your place to say," Pony spat.
"It'll be worth the trouble when you can afford a new limited edition Precious Moments figurine for your old lady," Train said through a smirk, and the boys laughed, ribbing Spit until he shrunk down in his seat. Poor guy made the mistake of getting hubbied up by a nice gal who collected cherubic little porcelain figures, instead of a slutty teenager with a coke habit. To each their own, but I preferred neither: I'd fuck nice girls, shy girls, bad girls, strippers, MILFS, coeds, playmates or virgins, but I was never getting tied down again. I already had one girl in my life, and she was enough.
