Reapers and Bastards Anthology Read Online Joanna Wylde (Reapers MC, #4.5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Drama, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reapers MC Series by Joanna Wylde
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Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 42549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 213(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 142(@300wpm)
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My dick sat up and suggested we investigate.

I’d never been one to ignore my dick.

Glancing over at Pic, I jerked my head toward the girl, silently claiming her. Pic smirked at me, but he shrugged, agreeing. I didn’t bother looking at Max. Brother might want in on the action, but he was still probationary, so he could wait the fuck in line for the next available bitch.

Even as a kid, I hadn’t liked sharing my toys.

We pulled up next to the car and turned off the bikes. The sound of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” blew out of the hatchback’s windows and I exchanged another quick glance with Picnic, who rolled his eyes. I jerked my chin, a silent fuck you at the older man. Pic wasn’t happy unless he was busting someone’s balls, and I wasn’t in the mood. Although, I had to admit, it was kind of funny. If I didn’t know for a fact Jensen was clueless about our visit, I’d call it a setup. I almost expected a second chick to jump out and start spraying her with a hose, straight out of a goddamn video or something. Best of the ’80s, Trailer Edition Live.

But the genuine panic on the girl’s face said that if Jeff had left her as some sort of peace offering, he hadn’t bothered giving her a heads-up first.

I swung a leg over my bike and strolled toward her, eyes trailing across that sweet little body. Yeah, definitely for me—this one was the stuff of wet dreams. Should I fuck her now or after I ripped Jensen a new asshole? I couldn’t decide . . . Maybe both. She might not be tall, but those legs were plenty long enough to wrap around my waist. Babe was seriously fine, and I felt my jeans tighten as I closed in on her. My nose flared, taking in her scent.

Damn.

I stopped next to the table, mesmerized and horny as hell. The temperature outside didn’t bother me anymore. Neither did the long ride—not with something like this waiting at the end of it. She took deep breaths, chest rising and falling rapidly, and it almost pushed me over the edge. I counted to ten, willing myself not to just grab her and push her down across the table, despite the fact that my cock was 100 percent certain it was the only reasonable course of action. My brain disagreed, and reluctantly I told my cock to shut up.

I wanted to fuck her, not give her a heart attack.

But I needed a little taste.

Just one.

Holding her gaze, I reached out with a finger and traced her collarbone from her shoulder inward, then slid it down between her breasts, grazing her cleavage. I couldn’t help myself. She quivered like a deer hit by headlights as I raised the finger to my mouth, tasting her.

Sun and sweat and sweet, ripe woman.

I held back a shudder, and realized I could probably pound nails with my dick. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this turned on. I’d lost my virginity freshman year in high school to a senior with a taste for younger men. Had I wanted to screw her as bad as this? I wasn’t entirely sure, that’s how hot Jensen’s girl was.

How did such an asshole loser attract a woman like this?

She swallowed nervously and her nipples hardened under their pretty little triangles of fabric. My cock informed me urgently that we really, really needed to be inside her tight little cunt sooner rather than later.

Fuckin’ amazing.

Then I saw the bruise. It was old and clearly fading, but someone had backhanded her across the cheek. My breath hissed, and for a second I felt fierce red rage sweep through me, strong enough to override my lust. What could a little thing like her do to possibly justify a man smacking her around? Did Jensen hit her? I clenched my jaw, considering different ways to kill the man. But it was faded, and she hadn’t been here last time. Might not be Jensen. Anyone could’ve marked her . . . Regardless, whoever was behind the bruise should pay.

Fuckin’ crime against nature, smacking around a face like that.

I considered taking her back to Coeur d’Alene for a while—even if he hadn’t hit her, Jensen sure as shit wouldn’t be able to keep a piece of ass like this satisfied. I’d bet my last dollar on it. Nothing like weed to make a man’s dick limp.

I shifted forward into her space, enjoying the way she backed away ever so slightly. Yeah, that was nice. This one wouldn’t just roll over for me, and I liked that.

Nothing like a chase to make the kill more satisfying.

“Hey, sweet butt,” I said, keeping my voice low and soft. Might as well find out whether she knew jack about bikers. She sure looked like a club whore. I didn’t much like the idea of her having been passed around, but if she already knew the rules, it would make life easier. She scrambled backward off the table, and I decided she was probably clueless. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that . . . Not an actual club whore, then, which was okay by me. I’d never been a huge fan of used pussy and I already knew I wanted to taste hers. On the other hand, I’d probably have to ease her into things if she didn’t know the score.


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