by Vivian Gray
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Screwed: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Death Angels MC) (Scars and Sins Collection Book 3) copyright @ 2018 by Vivian Gray. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
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Contents
Screwed: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Death Angels MC) (Scars and Sins Collection Book 3)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Sneak Preview of SILAS
Silas: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Death Knells MC)
Chapter One
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Screwed: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Death Angels MC) (Scars and Sins Collection Book 3)
By Vivian Gray
She tried to heal me… but I broke her first.
The crash nearly killed me.
But I’ve got a job to complete.
The angel nurse was only trying to do the right thing… but I needed a hostage.
So now she’s coming for the ride.
NOAH
A horrific crash lands me at St. Jude's Sacred Mission Hospital—and in the hands of a beautiful night nurse.
She makes it hard to imagine returning to work.
But I've got an assignment to complete—and a ruthless drug runner to kill.
No way a former Marine like me is going to let himself be outdriven…
And no way I'm going to let myself be distracted by the beautiful blond bombshell in the tight-fitting scrubs.
I'm a man who's used to taking what he wants.
So why not take her with me?
Right into the bloody, beating heart of danger.
I'm about to find out just how attentive my curvy nurse's pretty little hands can be…
And she’s about to get screwed.
SHANNON
Midnight.
That's the name whispered around the E.R., the designation on the chart given to the mysterious biker who has been placed in my care.
No identification to go off of.
Only a totaled bike; the tattoo of a pure black square; and a face so handsome it could break your heart if you aren't careful.
And as it turns out, I wasn’t careful enough.
Clearly, this man is bad news – the scars on his muscled chest are evidence of that.
But I find myself drawn to him all the same.
I've never let myself get in deep with a patient before…
But Midnight is about to show me just how deep he can go.
Chapter One
Shannon
“I swear, this shift is never going to end.”
I picked up the chart for the next patient I needed to check in on and blew a loose strand of hair from my face. The tight bun I had my short curls bound in was starting to come unraveled, which usually signaled the end of the shift was nearing, but I still had half a shift left. Evening shifts at St. Jude’s Sacred Mission Hospital were good for a few motor vehicle accidents and at least one trauma case – thanks to the neighborhood biker presence.
Death Angels.
At least half their name was accurate. I never saw anything angelic about them. Their members ran rough and didn’t seem to care about their surrounding community or anything else outside their club walls. Staying clear of them was the smartest thing anyone in town could do.
“It will be over soon enough.” Tracy, my coworker and closet friend, grabbed her open can of soda and took a sip. “What I wouldn’t give for some real caffeine. Like an espresso.” She sighed and closed her eyes in mock fantasy.
“Did you check on room 407?” I asked, casting a shadowed gaze down the hall to the closed door.
Behind it laid our floor’s mystery man. No name, no identification on him at time of arrival, and he’d barely been conscious enough for anyone to get any information out of him.
“Not yet, but when I did my rounds earlier, he was sleeping. Didn’t even stir when I took his blood pressure. I can’t believe you haven’t been peeking in on him.” Tracy leaned back in her chair, watching the monitor for any incoming messages.
Although night shifts killed my sleeping habits, at least I didn’t have to deal with family members and overzealous new doctors. Most of the docs did their rounds during the day; it was rare to see one on the floor past eight o’clock, and visiting hours had ended already. So, unless a patient called us, we were able to get through our shift without intense drama.
“Why would I do that? He’s a patient just like the rest on this floor. Just because he happens to be a little attractive doesn’t change that.” I rustled through charts to find a particular log I wanted to review.
“A little attractive? Shit. Shannon, he’s hot. I mean, sizzling hot. Didn’t you see those abs on him? The tats? I mean, it’s like the devil himself created that man.”
I gave her a look. “Exactly. The devil. He’s dangerous. And stupid. He completely wrecked his bike from what I hear. If he hadn’t been wearing his helmet, his brains would have been all over the pavement. He’s lucky he only has those deep cuts on his arms and some bruised ribs.”
Tracy stared at me with a plastered grin on her face.
“What?” I asked when Tracy continued to keep quiet.
“So, you don’t find him interesting, yet you know all of his injuries?”
“Shut up.” I tossed a file on the counter and pushed up from my chair. “I’m going to get a bag of chips from the vending machine. I have a taste for something salty. You want?”
Tracy looked at her watch. “No thanks. I think I might run down for a smoke. Can you cover me for a few minutes? Sharon and Marie should be back from their rounds soon.”
I sighed. “Sure. Anything I need to do?”
“Yeah.” Tracy’s smile widened. “Room number 407 needs to be looked in on. He probably needs a new IV bag.”
“Tracy,” I said with warning.
“You can thank me later.” Tracy winked and grabbed her pack of Marlboro lights from her bag in the bottom drawer and jogged off.
I glanced at the call screen. Room 406 needed something. I would take care of that patient first, then I would peek in on 407. Midnight – Tracy had taken to calling him ‘Midnight’ when he’d been officially tagged as ‘John Doe’. Aside from the fact that he’d been brought in close to that time on the night of his accident, a day ago, he had a large tattoo on his back. Just a simple black square surrounded by rose stems entwined around it.
After helping the patient in 406 to the washroom and back to bed, I went in to see about Midnight. The room fell silent once the door closed, aside from the faint beeping of the heart monitor
. He laid in the bed closest to the window, and the curtain was pulled across. No one could see him from the door. I made a note to ask Tracy why she’d keep the curtain drawn like that if he was alone in the room and unconscious, and made my way to the bed.
Standing at the foot of his bed, I stared at him. His hair, dark and wavy, had a tussled quality to it, like fingers had been run through it recently. Tracy really needed to keep her hands to herself.
He’d been put in a hospital gown, but it didn’t do much to hide his physique – broad-chested and muscled everywhere. The dark tats running up and down both arms also gave him more of a dangerous-mysterious quality.
I walked to the side of the bed, checking his IV. Perfectly fine. Tracy had such a nose for troublemaking.
“Well, you don’t really need anything, do you?” I said to my sleeping patient.
His chest rose and feel so evenly, so peacefully, it almost made me forget how he ended up in the bed. And what all those dark tattoos could mean.
“Maybe I could get you a beer? Help you find your gun? Do you carry a gun?” I asked him, resetting the IV drip and checking all the connections. “Of course you do. I doubt someone as hard-looking as you doesn’t own one.”
I pulled back the bandage on the wound on his arm. It would need redressing in the morning, but it could make it through the night well enough.
“And you are so hard-looking.” I glanced at his torso. Even through the hospital gown, I could tell the man was ripped. I sighed. This man could be dangerous, murderous even, but it really didn’t take any appeal away from him. Tracy was right. He was delicious.
I patted his hand, letting myself take an extra second to feel the warmth of his rough hands… What those things could probably do to my body.
“You have no idea, sweetheart,” a throaty voice said and his hand wrapped around my wrist.
Chapter Two
Noah
She yelped. The sexy nurse chatting away while checking me out didn’t scream when I touched her, but just let out a tiny little noise. It was cute. But when I opened my eyes and took in her sexy features, my cock went hard. Her hair was all tangled up in a bun, but a blonde curl had come loose and hung down the right side of her cheek.
And she wore glasses. Not some wire-rimmed bullshit, but cute, thick black-framed glasses that completely made her look like she belonged walking the stacks of her local library. And the librarian look did it for me.
Big time.
“D-did I say that out loud?” she asked.
I tightened my grip on her wrist when she tried to pull away. “Yeah, sweetheart you did,” I replied with a grin.
“You’re awake,” she added, like she’d only just realized it.
I’d been awake most of the day, but I wasn’t ready to deal with the nurse and doctors and all the fucking questions. But this girl, this nurse; I couldn’t ignore her being in my room anymore. She smelled like spicy vanilla. And her voice. Fuck she had a sexy voice.
“Yeah, I’m awake.” I pulled her toward me until she leaned on the bed. “Now, about what my hands can or cannot do to you.” I struggled to sit up, but once I was upright, I found myself only a kiss away from her face.
“You should lay back down.” She tried to push me back, but her delicate little hands couldn’t budge me.
I almost laughed at her attempt. After two deployments in the desert with nothing much to do between missions other than work out, there was no way this girl was pushing me anywhere.
“I’m good,” I said, scooting my ass back and sitting up straighter.
When I let go of her wrist, she took a step back but didn’t run from the room. I suppose that was something. Most girls who don’t already know me get a look of panic if they end up alone with me.
“Someone will be in here soon.” She looked at the monitors.
I turned my head. The usual beeping and bouncing lines. “Then maybe you should lock the door.”
“Why would I do that?”
“So we can talk. In private.” I needed information. Had my bike been found? Had the bags been searched? Exactly how fucked was I?
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She shook her head, but her tongue darted out and ran along the bottom of her lip. To have that pink treasure move up and down my cock… I almost groaned but managed to keep it together.
I threw back the hospital blanket and tossed my legs over the side of the bed. Crooking my finger, I signaled for her to come closer. She shook her head, that pretty curl bouncing when she did, but she still stepped closer.
“Good girl.” I grinned and grabbed her arm again, pulling her up against my knees. I felt the heat of her skin through the paper-thin material of her scrubs. Brushing the curl away and tucking it behind her ear, I brought my lips down to hers. Not touching, just hovering. Her lips parted, that fucking tongue licking the bottom lip again.
Fuck, she couldn’t know what she was doing to me.
“Did my bike get found? Is it okay?” I asked, still within kissing reach.
“Uh, yeah. But it’s pretty much demolished from what I heard.” Her warm breath washed over my face.
I needed to taste her.
“You been the angel taking care of me?” I rubbed my nose against hers.
“No, that was another nurse,” she whispered.
“But you’re here now.” I slid my hand behind her neck, holding it tight. This girl wasn’t going to get away from me. Not until I had a taste.
“I—” She seemed to lose her thought.
Instead of helping her along, I pressed my lips to hers, taking her little groan of surprise into my mouth and thrusting my tongue forward to dance with hers. Fuck, it was like kissing heaven. I intensified the kiss, sinking my fingers into her messed up bun and pulling on her hair.
She didn’t cry out, but instead, leaned into my kiss.
When I pulled away, I kept my hand gripping her hair and looked down at her. Swollen lips. Red cheeks. Dilated pupils. Damn, she couldn’t have been more glorious.
“Go lock the door,” I ordered, releasing her.
“Why?” She took a small step away from the bed.
“Because we don’t need an audience for what’s coming next.” I nudged my chin toward the door. “And if you do what I say like a good girl, you’ll get a sweet reward.”
She opened her mouth like she was going to be naughty and deny me, but then moved to the door and locked it. I noticed her shoulders drop and she took a second to breathe before she turned back around. This was new for her. She’d never just obeyed some strangers demands, and I would bet my bike she’d never let a man kiss her like that before either.
“Good girl.” I crooked my finger again. “Now, come here and lower those pants. Leave your panties. I want to take those off.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I can’t. I mean… no.” She shook her head and folded her arms.
Cute. She thought I was giving her a fucking choice.
“No?” I laughed. “Now that’s not being a good girl. And I like my girls sweet and obedient. If you don’t do what you’re told, how can I fuck you until you come so loud the hospital falls down around us?”
“We can’t do that. I mean I don’t even—I’m at work.” She took a small step toward me. “And you’re hurt!” She pointed to the bandage on my arm.
I shook my head. “A scratch.”
A deep fucking scratch that burned like hell when I moved my arm. Yet it didn’t match the pounding in my head or the soreness in my ribs. However, all of that combined couldn’t compare to the ache in my cock. I needed this woman.
And I would have her.
“Come here.” I lowered my voice, keeping an even level on the pitch. She needed to know I was serious, and she needed to get her sexy ass closer to me.
She glanced back over her shoulder before finally obeying me. She probably didn’t understand why she did it. Hell, I’d seen that look on girls’ faces my entire adult life. They didn’t know they had
a submissive side or they were in complete denial. This girl had no fucking idea how wet her panties could get just by being my good girl.
Once she was close enough, I snagged her by the hips and pulled her to stand between my legs again. “Take off this top.” I flicked the neckline of her scrub top. “I want to see those tits you’re hiding.”
She looked back at the door again, so I grabbed her chin and dragged it toward me, forcing her eyes to find me. “Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. Just on me.”
With a small nod, she pulled the top off, showing me her round breasts – they were still covered. Didn’t matter. I cupped them, feeling the soft lace beneath my rough, calloused hands. Pink. Sweet. Just like her. For now.
Yanking the cups downward, her breasts popped free, and I sucked one dark pert nipple into my mouth and bit down. She groaned and pushed against my shoulders. I pulled off.
