Helping his friend means letting a beautiful stranger into his life who exposes what he’s missing…
Zack has never liked the traditional, the predictable or the mundane. For him, it"s always been about freedom, autonomy, and excitement and that"s exactly what the MC lifestyle has given him. Sure, he"s had his fair share of losses along the way, but that"s part of the package. He"s content with his life, and he wants to make sure that nothing changes.
But when one of his men comes to him with a problem, Zack must step in and try to help. But helping his friend means letting a beautiful stranger into his life who threatens to break apart his perfect life and expose him to all that he"s missing . Zack finds himself at a crossroads. He finds himself questioning his lifestyle and all that comes with it. And suddenly" nothing is very simple anymore.Books by Author:Claire Adams Books
She had pulled a chair in front of the mirror and was sitting there combing her hair with her fingers like she didn"t realize she was naked. She had thick, dark hair, The kind of hair that was strong enough to steer with while I fucked her last night.
She was looking at me through the mirror, and I saw her smile seductively at me. She removed her hands from her hair and started playing with her nipples without taking her eyes off me. I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. Then I walked to the bathroom, ignoring her the whole time, and pissed loudly while she watched me.
When I was done, I sat down on the edge of my bed and lit a cigarette. Smoke curled around my fingers and rose in tiny ripples that distorted her image for a moment. She had turned her body in my direction. She was sitting suggestively, as though she hoped she could turn me on again. But I had fucked her twice already" and I"d had my fill.
"I don"t know your name," she said.
Her voice was high pitched and annoying in daylight. I should never have allowed her to spend the night, but I had passed out right after the sex and had woken up to find her curled up next to me.
I didn"t answer her right away. I took another drag of my cigarette before I glanced at her. "Names are irrelevant" don"t you think""
The question was purely rhetorical, but for some reason, she felt she needed to answer it. "No," she answered. "I think you told me last night, but I forgot."
"There was nothing to forget," I replied. "I never told you my name."
"Do you want me to guess"" she asked, curling a lock of hair with a finger.
She was trying to be flirtatious, but she only succeeded in turning my stomach. I kept my expression vacant as I fixed my eyes on her.
Her smile faltered for a moment, but she regained it in the next second. "Who"s that"" she asked, looking towards the small picture that hung on my wall.
The man in the picture was a big guy with a thick white beard and a bandana tied around his head. Despite his advanced age, his arms were ripped and toned and highlighted by his cutaway jacket.
"My father," I replied.
"Aw" that"s so sweet," she said, clearly taking my answer as encouragement to ask more questions. "You two were close""
"Oh." That stumped her for a moment, and her expression almost made me smile.
"Was he also a gang member"" she asked.
I frowned. "What makes you think I"m a fucking gang member"" I asked with deadly calm.
It was clear from her expression that the words had slipped out before she could think them over. She stuttered over her words, and her face went bright red. "No" I meant" sorry," she said. "It"s just" the way you dress."
I raised my eyebrows, and she changed tack.
"I like your jacket," she said, desperately trying to make conversation.
Her eyes fell to the motorcycle jacket hanging from a peg on the back of my door. My colors were emblazoned on the back, clearly indicating my status and my alliances.
"I didn"t know motorcycle clubs had presidents."
I cocked my head to the side and refused to say anything. She seemed to be growing more and more uncomfortable, but she didn"t quit.
"What"s it like"" she asked.
I raised my eyebrows.
"What"s it like to be president"of a motorcycle club"" she asked. "Is it like Boy Scouts""
"Are you fucking serious"" I asked.
She seemed taken back by my tone, but then she laughed insipidly. "I"ve always wanted to ride a Harley. Can you give me a ride on yours" Then I can cross that off my bucket list."
"No," I said, without hesitation.
Her smile dropped, and she finally seemed to realize that our little rendezvous was over. She no longer held any interest for me, and therefore I had no more reason to be charming. Becoming self-conscious almost immediately, she looked around for her clothes.
I gestured to the small pile at the foot of the bed, and she rushed to retrieve them, seemingly aware of the fact that I was watching her move. There was no longer anything seductive about her anymore. She just wanted to get the hell out of my room.
She pulled on her mini skirt and the halter that she had worn with it. Her makeup had smudged considerably, and she looked like she had two black eyes.
"Have you seen my purse""
"Over there," I said, gesturing to the sparkly silver purse I saw underneath the chest of drawers.
She had to bend down to get it, and when she righted herself, she looked at me awkwardly. "I"m" Melissa by the way."
"Goodbye, Melissa," I said.
Her eyes turned cold, and she walked to the door with anger in her step. She had the door open when she turned to me suddenly. "You"re a fucking asshole," she spat.