by Kara Jones
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Authors Notes
Heart
Free Gift
Game Time - Football Romance
Bonus – Carter - Biker
Bonus – Jax - Biker
Bonus – David - Biker
Bonus - Rex - Biker
Bear All The Way
Bonus - MC Bear’s Baby
Bonus - New York Shifter
Bonus - Secrets of an MC Bear
Bonus - Mated by the Bear
Bonus - Taken - Biker
Bonus – Axel - Navy SEAL
Bonus - Released
Bonus-Billioniares Heart
Bonus - Protected by a Navy SEAL
Bonus - Gage - Navy SEAL
Bonus - Slade - Navy SEAL
Bonus – Hard Hit - Sports Romance
Bonus – Big Hit
EYE CANDY
Heart
BWWM Secret Baby Romance
Kara Jones
Heart
Copyright © 2016 by Blue Steel Publishing.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Edition: October 2016
Note from Blue Steel Publishing:
We want to thank you so much for entrusting us with the privilege of entertaining you. This is a “short story” designed to give you a quick romance fix. We have also included several bonus short stories for you to enjoy. Sometimes people write and ask, “why do you include so many bonus books in each story?” The answer is simple. Authors on the AZ platform get paid by the number of pages read. This is amazing because whether you read our books here, or buy another title, we still get paid the same. We only do this for the short stories. So, we hope you enjoy this collection.
P.S. We have included some very sexy eye candy at the back of the book! Enjoy!
Brock
I wiped the sweat off my brow before sawing the wooden board I bought to mend the fences with. I needed to get that patched up or else some wild dog might get in and kill the chickens, I thought to myself.
Once that’s done, I grab the pieces of wood I cut and pick up the toolbox and hammer before making my way to the messed up fence. I let my frustration out as I drive the nail into the board, hitting the head over and over with my hammer. It was the middle of the afternoon, but the damn sun was high over my head and scorching hot against my back.
If I wanted to get sunburned, I’d have gone to the freaking beach, I muttered to myself, as I placed another nail in position over the board and repeated the process. I wasn’t even planning on doing this job, to be honest. I was all revved up to go to this new club opening downtown and party it up. Maybe spend a time or two between a woman’s legs while I’m at it. But when I got downstairs and my father took one look at me all dressed up and holding the keys to my truck, he gave me the list of things to buy at the hardware store and told me to get to work mending the fence.
Me, a 6’3” well-built, twenty-seven year-old man could easily take down a sixty-year old little man like my father, no problem. But he’s my dad, and hell would freeze over before I go against him.
After I finished mending the fence, I put the toolbox away and made a mad dash back to the house, hoping my dad wouldn’t spot me and make me do something else in the farm, like dig up cow shit. I went straight to my bathroom and into the shower, cooling my skin and getting the dirt off of me before getting dressed.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror, pulled my cowboy hat off of the wall, and placed it on my head, tipping it down expertly.
Time to party, McAdams, I said to myself, as I stared at my reflection and winked.
Zia
Sometimes, I just hate myself.
Giving up my job as a high-paying real estate agent to follow my long-time boyfriend out to the country wasn’t a bright idea at all. In fact, it was a hundred percent, certifiably-stupid idea.
But that’s what love does to you, I guess. It incapacitates your brain and prevents you from making any logical and practical decisions. And now, here I am, sitting on a stool that isn’t even anywhere near the bar, waiting for my boyfriend to get back from his trip to the bathroom. He’s been gone for about fifteen minutes, and I’m seriously contemplating on going to the bathroom and checking on him. The only reason he’d be taking this long is if he was taking a dump or the queue to the bathroom was really long.
I turned away from another cowboy leering at me from across the bar and rolled my eyes. The way these assholes are acting, you’d think they’d never seen a black woman before.
Honestly, when Chris and I walked into the bar, the people directly in front of the entrance stared at me weirdly. This is the year 2016. I’m pretty sure black people are everywhere in different parts of the globe, so it shouldn’t be that weird for me to be there, right?
I see a fly land on my leg and, in a flash, I hit it with my hand before flicking the dead bug off of me. I gnash my teeth in frustration. What is taking him so long?
I got off my stool and walked amongst the crowd, searching for the bathroom when I collided against a hard chest. Two arms shot out and held me by my shoulders, holding me in place. I looked up and my breath caught as I gazed into the clearest silver eyes I had ever seen. They were eyes that belonged to a deliciously handsome stranger with a strong, chiseled jaw defined by his five o’clock shadow.
“Sorry,” he said, his voice gruff. I shook my head, feeling the warmth spreading through my cheeks as I blushed for no reason.
“It’s okay. My fault,” I mumbled, and he titled his head curiously.
“Are you sure?” he asked, and I nodded again.
“Just wondering where the bathroom is,” I admitted, and he let go of my arms and pointed toward the back.
“Door to the right. It’s a shared one, so expect a line,” he said, and I thanked him before walking toward the direction he pointed me to.
Despite the silver-eyed stranger’s warning, there were only three people waiting in line outside of the bathroom, and I waited by the side of the door for Chris to come out. The door opened, and I got off of the wall I was leaning on.
“Chris, can we–” I frowned as I saw a woman come out of the bathroom and not my boyfriend. She looked at me weirdly before walking away, and the next person in line immediately went in and I heard the door lock. I turned to look at the guy waiting in line.
“Is there another stall inside?” I asked, my forehead starting to sweat as I felt my stomach twist in panic. He shook his head.
I bit my lip and walked away from there, pushing my hand through my hair.
“Where the hell are you, Chris?” I said softly to myself.
I spent the next ten minutes searching for him inside the bar and another five minutes telling myself he did not just ditch me. I mean, he has to be here somewhere, right?
A light bulb went off inside of my head, as I realized I hadn’t gone out to the parking lot to check if he was already waiting for me in the car, so I made a mad dash outside of the place.
I turned the corner, spotted his blue Prius, and I frowned as I saw it swaying from side to side, almost as if there was an earthquake that only the car was experiencing. I swallowed as I approached the car slowly, afraid of
what I would find.
Please, please be a zombie eating my boyfriend in the backseat instead of my boyfriend having sex with another woman, I thought.
I stopped and stood by the window, and I raised my hand to my mouth as my heart plummeted.
He wasn’t being eaten by a zombie. He was definitely eating something between that blonde girl’s legs, though.
Zia
I wonder if that hot-as-hell number ever found the bathroom.
She was pretty startled when I caught her, and for a moment there, I knew she was staring at me. I gotta admit, it was still pretty flattering for a beautiful woman to gawk at me.
Her voice was soft and sweet, too, and as I gave her directions, my mind immediately went off the deep-end and imagined what she’d sound like with her legs wrapped around my waist as I pounded my cock into her.
She’d probably sound amazing – probably feel amazing, too.
I feel my phone vibrate in the pocket of my jeans, and I curse under my breath before pulling it out. It was Jefferson, the second eldest, calling me. I contemplated whether to answer it or let it go straight to voicemail, but I figured I’d rather get whatever he wanted to tell me out of the way instead of him ruining the night. I took the call.
“Where the hell are you?” he asked, and I rolled my eyes.
“Why hello, big bro, nice to hear from you, too,” I said sarcastically.
“Don’t give me that crap, Brock,” he snarled. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Have you figured out if you want in on the farm or not?”
“Not the stupid will again,” I growled. I was sick and tired of discussing this subject. “Our father wasn’t even dead yet, for crying out loud!”
Is this the right time to discuss the division of property and all that crap? I thought.
“It’s the perfect time to discuss this matter,” he said, and I shook my head again, reaching my limit of this brother for the night.
“Look, I’ll say it again because you don’t seem to get it every time I tell you. I… am… not… interested… in… the… farm. There are already four of you fighting over who gets to keep what, without even consulting what our parents think. So leave me out of it, alright?”
I didn’t wait for a reply and just ended the call, trying to rein in my desire to just throw my cellphone through a wall. Jefferson was such a greedy little bastard. Our old man doesn’t even have one foot in the grave yet, and they already want to divvy up who inherits what? My brothers are scumbags.
I needed to get some air.
I made my way to the parking lot and closed my eyes, so I could meditate a little. I took a deep breath, and then I scrunched my eyebrows together as I heard what vaguely sounded like a woman’s voice and a loud smacking sound that repeated over and over. I followed the trail with my ears. My eyes widened and my brows shot straight up as I witnessed the sexy black girl hitting this black guy over and over with, from what I could tell, was the lid of a tin trash can a few feet away from them. There was a blonde that kept her arm latched onto the guy, as the black girl attacked, and I was having a hard time deciding whether to just watch until it became a full-on cat fight or intervene before that dude is battered to death.
I moved closer to the scene so I could get a better vantage point, and I overheard them screaming at each other.
“I…” smack “can’t…” smack “believe you!” I winced as she enunciated each word by hitting that guy over and over, while the guy held his arms up over his face to block the blows. “I gave up my life and my career to come with you into this backward town, and I catch you with your mouth sucking on another pussy?!” she yelled.
I have to admit, I felt a little offended because she basically just insulted me. I grew up in this ‘backward town,’ but I let it go. Her dirty mouth made me cringe a bit – should you really have shouted the last part out here where everyone could hear it?
“Oh please, Zia. I never asked you to come with me! The reason I was even going out of the country was to get away from you!” he cried, as he blocked another strike.
I winced. Ouch. Forget what I said earlier. This guy is a jackass, and he deserves to get beat up.
The black girl, who I now know is named Zia, went completely ballistic and legit jumped up to tackle the guy. I quickly stepped in and managed to grab her around her waist and pull her away from him. She raised her legs in the air, still trying to attack the dude.
“Let me at him, you son of a bitch!” Zia shrieked, kicking and screaming at the guy when one of her shoes flew out of her foot and straight into the blonde girl’s forehead.
The blonde girl yelped in pain, placing her hand on her forehead to touch the spot where the shoe hit her. She then tangled her arm around the guy’s and pulled him away from us and toward the car.
“Oh no! You get your hands off me!” she yelled, turning her head to try and get a look at me as she struggled against my hold on her.
“You’re just going to start attacking them again and I don’t want to have to call the police,” I said.
“That’s my car!” she said, and my eyes widened with the realization.
I heard the sound of a car start as I dropped her back on her feet.
Oh, crap.
Zia
The guy dropped me, and I ran toward the car as it slowly reversed out of the parking space. I banged my hands on the driver’s window side, but Chris just ignored me.
“Chris, get out of the car! We are not through talking about this! You have no right to take this car. I paid for most of it, you asshole!” I yelled, but Chris and his blonde whore were so thick-skinned they ignored me, keeping their gazes anywhere but at me. Chris sped up once he got out of the spot and I tried to chase after him, sans one shoe.
I probably looked really silly – chasing after a speeding car by foot, wearing only one shoe and tear tracks caked on my cheeks from my mascara wearing off – but I was pretty much past the point of caring. I kept running after it until I lost sight of it, and the fruitless chase left me both breathless and pathetic.
I placed my hands on my knees as I turned my head to the ground, trying to catch my breath. I heard footsteps coming up behind me and I didn’t have to turn around to know that it was the guy who meddled into my private life. I shook my head and turned around, glaring at him.
The fact that it was the guy with the pretty, silver eyes that stopped me from killing Chris did not help lessen my anger.
“Why did you do that? I asked, and his eyes widened. “Because of you, the car I made 24 monthly payments on just sped off, carrying the host of gonorrhea and my asshole boyfriend!” I said. He raised his hands up in surrender.
“Hey, I didn’t know–” he said, but I cut him off before he completed a thought.
“That’s right, you didn’t know! You didn’t know anything, but you still pushed yourself right into another person’s business!”
I stomped my foot in frustration. I still can’t believe it happened. Chris, my boyfriend since our senior year of high school, my boyfriend of almost seven and a half years, left me all alone in a hick-town without any money. It was a really cruel thing to do, and it hurt really bad – bad enough to start up my tear ducts again.
I sniffled and whimpered as I cried my heart out over my less-than-favorable predicament and, after a few moments, I felt a large, warm hand rubbing my back comfortingly. I sniffed and looked curiously over at the guy who raised his eyebrows while looking at me sadly.
“Would you like to talk about it?” he asked kindly, and I slowly straightened up and faced him fully.
“You’re one of the reasons why I’m in this mess, and you want me to talk about it? With you?” I scoffed, wiping my tears with one hand before pointing a finger at him. “Let me tell you something, pretty boy.” I spat, making his eyes widen. “I am not about to tell you my life story, alright?” I said.
***
“So you see, I don’t understand why he’d do such a thing. I mean, we’ve been toget
her since…,” I struggled to think of the right answer.
How long have Chris and I been together? It was more than two years, I think. God, it was so long, it felt like forever. Yeah, I think forever is just about right. “I don’t know… Forever. We’ve been together since forever! Shouldn’t there be some lingering sort of care for me, at least? I mean, he wouldn’t have stuck with me that long if he didn’t, right?”
Silvery eyes – who had introduced himself as Brock – shook his head and took a swig from his beer bottle. We’ve settled in a quiet booth in the back, Brock sitting across from me and bottles of beer scattered around our table. We’ve downed so many beers, I’ve lost count after the fourth shot... Or was it the seventh?
Who cares?
“I care,” Brock said, and I put my hands to my mouth, as my eyes widened in realization.
Did I say that out loud?
“Yes, you’re talking aloud. It amazes me how you described what you just did before asking that question,” Brock said, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. I scoffed and took another shot.
“Well, excuse me for speaking my mind,” I said, and he chuckled.
“Seriously though, baby, you should lay off on the drinks right about now. You won’t have time to sober up when you go home,” he told me, and I frowned.
“Home? How do I get home?” I asked him, and he slapped his hand to his forehead.
“Oh, right! What a big dumb-dumb I am!” he cried before erupting into giggles. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused at how such a tall and muscular man could giggle like a giddy schoolgirl. “I meant, where are you going now? Have you checked into a hotel yet?” he asked.
I looked away from him as my brain struggled to find an answer to his question, and then the memory of Chris doing it with the blonde bimbo in the car flashed in my mind once more.
“I’ve never done it before,” I whispered and Brock tilted his head, as he looked at me in confusion. I raised my eyes up to meet his, letting him see how aroused I was. “I’ve never made love in a car before,” I said, intentionally rolling the words with my tongue slowly and seductively.
