Player: Stone Cold MC

by Carmen Faye

  Rip looked amazing. His hair was cut shorter, his clothes were clean, and he didn’t have the general look of danger to him. His eyes were as blue as ever—and when he smiled my stomach flipped.

  “Hi,” he said

  “Hi,” I answered and smiled, too. Rip stepped closer and pulled me to him. I hugged him, aware of my tummy pressing against him. He didn’t seem to notice. He leaned down and hovered close to my face, giving me the option of kissing him or pulling away.

  I pulled away.

  It made everything darker. His smile faded, and the nerves that had disappeared for a moment when I’d seen his smile were back. I turned and walked into my room.

  “How have you been?” I asked.

  “Good,” he said. The conversation was strained. “You?”

  “Yeah, good. I’ve sorted everything out.”

  Rip nodded. “Me too.”

  I sat down on the bed. Rip stood a couple of feet away from me. The distance between us was so obvious, it made me cringe.

  “What’s going on?” he asked after a moment of silence. “Somehow I’d imagined this meeting to be different. Have you changed your mind about me?”

  I shook my head.

  “I was just scared you would change your mind about me,” I said.

  “Why would I? I fought for you. I don’t want to lose you. I did all of this for you.”

  He gestured to his own clothes. I nodded and studied my nails intently.

  “You look really good.”

  “Please tell me what’s wrong,” Rip said, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

  He looked shocked. It was what I’d expected. His eyes slid to my stomach, and I saw him trace the outlines of the small bump, seeing what I said to him as truth.

  “Mine?” he asked. I wanted to get angry that he was even asking, but we hadn’t seen each other for over three months.

  I nodded. “A boy.”

  He didn’t come closer. His face showed no emotion, a poker face that would do any gambler proud. When he looked me in the eye again, I didn’t know what he was thinking at all.

  “I don’t expect you to take part in this if you don’t want to. I know that your life…”

  He shook his head continuously so that I stopped talking.

  “I don’t want you to do it alone,” he said. His face was still closed off, and he felt more distant than ever.

  “Are you sure?” I asked. He nodded and finally stepped closer to me. He sat down next to me on the bed and pulled me against his body. In an instant, all the distance and tension was gone, and it was as if the last three months had never happened. It felt like it had just been yesterday we’d been together.

  “Can I ask you one thing?” he asked, his chin on my hair.

  “Of course.”

  “Can we call him Emmett?”

  THE END

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  DARE

  I’ve spent my whole life fighting: from the mountains of Afghanistan to the bloodied octagon

  DARE

  Backing down is never an option. I bury my opponents, no matter who they are.

  I’ve had my share of women, broke more hearts than I can count. But that’s life when every day could be my last.

  Then Holly came into my life, and everything changed.

  I can’t get her out of my head.

  I want her in my bed.

  I need to hear her scream my name.

  I’ve spent my entire life winning fights.

  I’m not about to lose this one.

  HOLLY

  I’m fragile. I’ve been hurt. But I’m not made of glass.

  I want to be loved, I want to be touched, I want to be made love to. Hard.

  I never thought it’d be from him.

  He made me cry. He made me scream.

  He made me forget everything that I’d been.

  But now he wants more…

  He wants to make me HIS.

  SEAL

  HE TAKES WHAT HE WANTS. NO MATTER WHAT.

  Six-foot-five, tatted, tough, and unstoppable. Matt Perrier was the perfect hunter who spent the last six years in the mountains of Afghanistan.

  Even though I know those strong hands of his are stained with blood.

  When they rest on my curves—take me from one leg-quivering climax to another, I forget who he is. I forget what he’s done.

  I forget that I can run from all my problems, but I can’t run from him.

  Because those hands of his will find me, catch me…

  … hold me tight and never let go.

  OWNED BY THE BAD BOY

  I DON’T PLAN ON STOPPING UNTIL SHE’S CARRYING MY KID.

  SCOTT

  I swore to protect her. Keep her safe from the demons of her past. I didn’t expect to pull her into my bed.

  One night was all it took. To break her walls, to make her feel alive again.

  But once wasn’t enough, and all I wanted was more.

  The President made her off limits. Said he’d put a bullet in anyone who laid a hand on her.

  Too bad for him, I did more than that.

  Until she’s carrying my kid.

  Until she’s wearing my ring.

  Until I make her mine.

  JESSICA

  I swore off outlaws—after the last one left me nearly dead—I swore never again.

  Until I came face-to-face with Scott: the sexy bastard who’d knock down all my walls and set my world on fire.

  I wanted to fight him, to push him away while hiding how hard it was to keep my hands off him.

  It wasn’t a battle I could win.

  And when he stares me in the eye, promising that he’ll make me his and that he’s not taking no for an answer.

  I can’t help think that there’s no way he could be wrong.

  BRUTE

  Dawson

  I hurt people for a living.

  There’s no room in my life for love.

  But that was before I met Mari.

  I’ve never met anyone like her before.

  Pure.

  Innocent.

  Begging to be corrupted.

  She won't be the first girl I’ve pulled into my bed.

  But I’ll be damned if she isn’t the first one that I want to make MINE.

  Mari

  He doesn’t just stare at me, he f***s me with his eyes.

  And when he asked me for a favor—a favor that goes against all of my better judgments, I should have backed away.

  I should have kept my distance.

  I should have said no.

  Because once I stepped into his world…

  There was no way out.

  COLE

  I’M NOT A HERO

  Cole

  My heart belongs to my club and nowhere else. I don’t love, and my only commitment is to my brothers.

  Until Nicole.

  She was supposed to be just another job—but more importantly, off limits.

  … But that was before I pulled her in my bed.

  Now, I can’t get her out of my mind.

  I want her to scream my name.

  I need her begging for more.

  She thinks I’m just a thug to keep her in line.

  But that won’t stop me from making her MINE.

  Nicole

  Life on the street has turned me into what I am today: a call girl.

  All I wanted was out, but what I got instead was Cole Porter.

  Six-foot-four and covered in tats, Cole’s the strong-arm biker meant to keep me in line and keep unruly customers at arm’s length.

  My protector and jailer.

  I’m not supposed to talk to him.

  I’m n
ot supposed to look at him.

  I’m not supposed to run my hands along his hard body.

  … and I’m definitely not supposed to beg him to make me HIS.