LOSER: Avenging Angels MC Book 3

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LOSER: AVENGING ANGELS MC BOOK 3

by Nia Farrell

Length 44,170 words. Release date May 8, 2018.

Amazon e-book (FREE on KU)    Goodreads reviews

They’ve both lost something…

For kindergarten teacher and kidnapping victim Sara Davies, it was a baby.  For tattoo artist and Avenging Angels MC member Flynn McGee, it was his belief in a happily ever after.  Bullied as a dyslexic teen, the product of a broken home, he struggles daily with self-worth.  Sara battles PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, and night terrors that require medication if she has any hope of getting some sleep.

Flynn believes that BDSM would help Sara in her healing process but she’s only done vanilla.  She thinks that Flynn needs to share his original artwork with the world.  Each of them pushes the other, but the conflict that comes from being outside their comfort zones only fuels their passion.

Their fledgling relationship is put to the test when Sara becomes the target of a dangerous stalker.  Can Flynn and the Avenging Angels keep her safe, or will Sara become Reaper’s next victim?

This book has adult content and may contain triggers. Written for ages 18+.

EXCERPT:

“What do we do?”

They’d come to another crossroads in their conversation.  He could either hedge or go for broke.  If he didn’t scare her off, things could get interesting.

“Kink,” Flynn said simply.  “BDSM.”  He watched her face as she took it in.  She didn’t look shocked like he was expecting.  Either she’d talked to Isabella or had heard enough that it didn’t surprise her.  Sara schooled her features, but her eyes revealed curiosity and maybe something more.  Was it possible that the idea of kink turned her on?  If she had PTSD, giving up control was a huge step in learning to trust again.

“Every member of the Avenging Angels is a Dominant.”

She looked at his cut.  “Then you’re a Dominant, too.”  She sounded like she didn’t know what to do with that.

“Yes,” he said.  “And unless I’m really reading you wrong, I’d say that you’re a natural submissive.  The idea of putting yourself in someone’s hands, surrendering control to someone you can trust to meet your needs, appeals to you on some level.  You know, the women at the clubhouse are submissives.  The clubhouse lounge is essentially a playroom.  A dungeon, if you will.  Play goes on every night of the week, not just party nights.”

“So if I take you there,” she said slowly, “and go inside, I can expect to see something?”

“I can’t imagine you not getting an eyeful with as many members, prospects, old ladies, mamas, and sweetbutts as we have.  I can see those questions swirling in your eyes.  You’re curious.  Maybe more than curious.  Say the word, and I’ll see that you get a first-hand look.  It’s the least I can do.”

Their waitress chose that moment to slip the guest check on the table.  Flynn snagged it before Sara had a chance to.  “I got this,” he told her.  “You’re driving.  I’m buying.  Energy exchange.”

He’d rather be making a power exchange with her, but that would have to wait.  He wanted to see how she reacted to the clubhouse lounge.  What caught her attention.  What made her cringe.  What made her breath catch and her panties get wet.

Fuck, yeah.

Excerpt 2:

“I don’t think that skirt meets the school dress code, Sara.”

She felt her cheeks grow flush.  “No, I wore this for you.  It shows my thigh.”

He arched a brow.  “It shows a helluva lot more than that.  Did you wear those red panties for me, too?  Don’t bother tugging on the skirt, Sara.  It’s too late for that.”

She froze with her fingers on the hem.

“Well?” he said.  “Did you?”

She snapped her spine straight, and looked past his shoulder, refusing to give him the satisfaction.  “No.  I wore them for me.”

“Liar.”  He pinned her with his gaze.  “Look me in the eye and tell me again.  Did you wear those panties for me?”

His hazel eyes were this beautiful mix of colors that seemed to shift with his emotions.  Right now, they were as dark as she’d ever seen them.

“Maybe,” she hedged.

He crossed his tattooed arms and gave her a look that demanded the truth.

“Yes,” she admitted, feeling the blush that colored her cheeks and spilled down to her chest.

“That’s what I thought.  And why would you do that, Sara?  Wear red panties and flash me?  Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

“No.”

“Did you want me to notice?”

“Yes,” she croaked.

“You know, some men would think that you were asking for something you might not be willing to give.  What were you hoping for, Sara?  What did you see happening here tonight?”

“I don’t know,” she keened, at once ashamed and aroused.  “After I got out of the hospital, I created this image that people wanted to see.  Someone who has it together.  Someone who’s happy.  But no one bothers to look past the mask.  No one wants to see the darkness or the grief, the guilt or the regrets.  They want to see the old Sara, and she’s not there anymore.”

Flynn listened.  Nodded.  “You’re trying to find yourself.  Redefine yourself.  I get that.  I’ve had to do it, too.  More than once.  It just takes time.”

“Time?”  She shook her head.  “It’s been three years since I’ve felt anything and now I don’t know what to do.  How to act.  What to think when you get flirty with me.  I don’t know.  Maybe you’re that way with everyone.  I mean, look at me.  I’m nothing like those girls in your club.”

“No,” he said.  “You’re not.  And thank fuck for it.  Sweetbutts are a dime a dozen.  Sleeping with them is meaningless sex.  Scratching an itch, nothing more.  A woman like you…you have no idea how rare you are.  I look at you, and I see someone who’s stronger than she thinks, wiser than she knows, and better than I deserve.  There’s a kindness in you that’s survived despite everything that you’ve been through.  The way you stayed with me, I have to wonder if you’d have done it for anyone else.  Would you have been brave enough to go to the clubhouse, say, with Iceman if you’d seen him go down?  What I’m saying is, I know it took guts to go in there with me and you didn’t really know me from shit.  Hell, you took a bigger chance going to my room.  If you had any idea what was going through my mind, you’d have dropped me at the door and gone straight home.”

Sara pressed her thighs together but it did nothing to ease the throbbing between her legs.  “You said you were a Dominant.  A true Dominant wouldn’t force himself on me.  Nothing would have happened without my consent.”

“And it won’t tonight, either.  But I’m too old for games, Sara.  If you want something, tell me.  Don’t play coy.  You say that you want to discover who you are.  Well, I want that, too.  After we eat, I’ll show you something that may help.  Doing it will be your choice.  I’m hoping that you’ll trust me to guide you through it.”

 

SEXCERPT:

“Those nipple clamps need to come off.  When the blood rushes back in, it’s going to hurt.  I can make it feel better if you trust me to do it.”

“Okay.”  She didn’t sound sure but she was brave enough to take a chance.

He started with the clamp closest to him.  “Here goes.”  He took it off.  She gasped at the pain.  Seeking to ease it, he bent his head and fastened his mouth over her nipple, sucking on it until her gasp turned into a moan.

Flynn raised his gaze to meet hers.  Sara was watching him with a lambency in her eyes that he couldn’t fail to recognize.

He could smell her arousal.  If he slid his fingers between her legs, he was certain that he’d find her panties wet with her juices.

Lifting his head, he covered her breast with his hand and gave it a squeeze.  “We good?” he asked.  She nodded.  “One more time, then.”

Leaning over her, he took off the second clamp and took her nipple in his mouth, sucking it to ease the hurt and making her moan with desire.  She clasped his head and arched her back, pressing her breast more fully into his mouth.  He caught the nipple between his teeth and teased it with his tongue, licking and flicking it while his fingers claimed her other breast.

“Flynn,” she breathed.  “Fuck me.”

He knew what this was.  She had just revisited the scene where she’d nearly died.  She was seeking a life-affirming action, but what sex the best answer?

“Are you sure, babe?”  As her Dominant, it was his responsibility to put her needs before his own, even though he was rock hard for her.

She covered his fly with her hand and squeezed his erection through his jeans.  “Yes,” she breathed.  “Please, Flynn.  Don’t make me beg.”

Framing her face in his hands, he bent down and brushed her lips with his.  She put her palms on his shoulders and spread her fingers wide, sweeping them over his chest, seeking and finding the barbells in his nipples.  She teased them with her palms.  He bit her lower lip.  When she gasped, he slammed his mouth over hers and thrust his tongue inside to mate with hers, an erotic duel that left them both panting with need.

He shoved a hand down the front of her panties and fingered her clit.  Coaxing it from its hood, he dove deeper, stroking her swollen folds.  She thrust her hips against him, humping his hand.  She was soaking wet.  He traced her seam and parted it with his middle finger.  Pushing up, he found her opening with practiced ease and worked his way into her tight, wet channel, feeling her walls resist, then yield to his invasion, not stopping until he was knuckle-deep.  Curling his finger, he found her G-spot and brought her to a shattering climax.

Her pussy milked his finger, her walls spasming, rippling along its length.  He wished it had been his dick, but this was about her, not him.

He fucked her with his finger, letting her ride his hand, adding a second finger once he’d stretched her out a bit.  Pulling out, he grabbed the sides of her panties and yanked them down.  He stood to finish pulling them off her feet and tossed them aside.

His boots went next.  He felt her gaze when his fingers went to the waist of his jeans, found the button, and pushed it free.  His erection strained the zipper.  He opened it slowly, taking care to not catch anything on the way down.  Hooking his fingers in his waistband, he shoved his jeans over his hips and down his legs, freeing one, then the other, until he was as naked as a Michael Stokes model.

The way she looked at him, he felt like one.  The woman liked ink, no doubt about it.  Her gaze drifted south to his cock.  He stroked himself, working pre-cum from the tip.

“Bend your knees up,” he told her.  “Put your heels by your ass and make room for me, sugar.”  The chair wasn’t nearly as wide as a bed.  You could fuck on it, but positions were limited.

Letting go of his dick, he crawled between her legs, not stopping until the head of his cock was nudging her crotch.  Planting his palm by her head, he took hold of himself with the other hand and stroked her folds, wetting himself with her juices.

She palmed his pecs, spread her fingers, and squeezed, feeling the contours of his muscles.  He flexed his hips, demanding entrance and achieving it in one, meaty thrust that took her breath away.  She bucked and writhed beneath him, struggling to accommodate his length and girth.  The truth was, he more than filled her.  He had to work for every inch, but eventually, he was balls-deep in her sweet, welcoming warmth.

He started really fucking her, then, building in speed and intensity until he was pounding into her.  She climaxed twice more while he was screwing her.  Her juices coated his cock and gave the lubrication he needed to keep from fucking her raw.

When he felt himself nearing the end, he had three choices: finish in her mouth, mark her front, or finish in her ass.  “I need to come,” he grated.  His balls tightened, getting ready to unload.

“My mouth,” she panted.  “I want you in my mouth.”

Good enough.

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Keeper: Avenging Angels MC Book 2

Keeper: Avenging Angels MC Book 2 by Nia Farrell

Length 42,909 words.  Release date September 8, 2017

Amazon http://mybook.to/AAMC2  or https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074MPTK5Q/

Goodreads http://bit.ly/AAMC2GR or https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35961855-keeper

Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan and Isabella Castellari have a history. Kind of. He’s a member of the Avenging Angels MC and one of four brothers whom she thinks slept with her sister three years ago. Or did they? Nothing is as it seems. Isabella’s world is turned upside down when lies are exposed, truths revealed, and the man she’s been fantasizing about for three long years makes her an offer that she should refuse but can’t. 

When Mad Dog recognizes Isabella stranded on a rural country road, remembering her toxic sister, he almost doesn’t stop. Seeing her as an end to a means, he brings her back to the Avenging Angels MC clubhouse and quickly learns that she’s different—very different—than what he expected. She’s a curious innocent, and willing to submit to his domination. But there are complications.  A mob boss uncle, protective parents, a traitorous friend, and secrets that have been kept for far too long. Secrets that will either bind them together or tear them apart.

This book has adult content and may contain triggers. Written for ages 18+.

 

EXCERPT (885 words):

He couldn’t deny, it was a huge ego stroke to know that he was her first.  But she was also Isabella Fucking Castellari.  Never Miss Little Italy like her sister, but they shared the same blood ties to the fucking mob.

Of course, Isabella didn’t know that he knew about her crime family connection.  He’d been keeping too many fucking secrets for too fucking long.  Her sister Krissy and her Uncle Giovanni were just some of many.

Rather than open that can of worms, he chose a safer subject.

“So, tell me.”  Reaching, he smoothed her hair back from her face and traced the line of her jaw with two fingers.  “Before tonight, did you know that Anna was seeing Richie?”

She sighed softly.  “No.  I mean, I thought that she was seeing someone, but she always had an excuse.  Usually, it was homework, but then we graduated and she was still too busy.”

Fuck.

Mad Dog forced his voice to stay calm.  “How old are you, Isabella?”  Please tell me you’re not jail bait on top of a mob boss’s niece.

“I turned eighteen on March sixth.  Michelangelo’s birthday.  And the day the Alamo fell, if you’re into Texas history.  How old are you?”

“Thirty.”  Twelve years her senior.  He rubbed a hand across his face and blew out softly.  “Jesus, that sounds old.”

Reaching across, she caught his dog tags, weighed them in her hand, and said solemnly, “You’re not old.  You’re experienced.  And I’m hoping that you’ll teach me.”

He leveled a look at her.  He needed to be honest, at least in this.  “Clubhouse life isn’t for everyone,” he told her.  “We do things different here.  We’re all in the BDSM lifestyle as well as the club.  The men here Dominate.  The women submit.  Did you read Fifty Shades or watch the movies?”

Isabella nodded.

“Well, fuck that shit.  That’s not how things are done.  You want to learn?  We’ll get cleaned up and go downstairs.  The lounge is your classroom.  You’ll learn things there that they don’t teach in college.  Are you signed up to go anywhere this fall?”

“SIU,” she said.  “For photography and graphic design.”

He remembered the point-and-shoot he’d found in her purse.  “You a shutterbug?”

“You could say that.  I took my first picture when I was four.  Got my own camera when I was six.  I never leave home without one.”

“And the graphic design?”

“You know all those books on my reader? Someone does the covers.  Might as well be me.  Take the pictures, offer premades and customs.  It’s something that I think I’d enjoy and be good at.  I’ve already done one for my cousin.  She uses a pen name so that no one knows she writes erotica.  She tells people that she’s a ghost writer and can’t disclose anything.”

“She had you do a cover?  Like, with models?  Naked models?”

Isabella bit her lip and coiled a strand of hair around her finger.  “Well, it is erotica,” she said coyly.

He wasn’t smiling.  She was eighteen, for Christ’s sake.  What the hell was her cousin thinking?

“Just teasing!”  She traced his lips with the pad of her index finger.  He caught it between his teeth and refused to give it back until her eyes had gone smoky and her thoughts were disjointed.  “She, um…”  Isabella cleared her throat and tried again.  “She dressed up like a cheerleader.  The cover shows her chest and midriff.  You…um…you can’t see her face.”

“Paperback or just e-book?”

“Both.”  She smiled with quiet pride.  “I have a copy, if you’d like to see it.”

“I would.”  If they were going to try and make a go of this, he needed to know what she was doing.  What she had planned.  Then he’d expand her horizons where he could.

“And the graphic design—apart from the book covers.  Can you draw?”

“Yes.”

“Paint?”

Her brow scrunched.  “Yes?  Some?  That’s not my—”

“Sweet.  You could learn to tattoo.”

“Wait.  What?”  She looked at him, confused.  He’d gone too fast and lost her.  Now she was trying to get her bearings.

He shifted gears.  “How about a summer job?  You working anywhere?”

“No.  I’m taking two online classes. Getting some of the required subjects taken care of so that I can immerse myself in the good stuff come fall.”

“The club owns a tat shop.  Angel Ink.  Flynn will need to see what you can do, but if you pass muster and want a full- or part-time job, he can use the help.  Front desk scheduling, answering the phone, checking in deliveries.  Normal receptionist-office assistant stuff.  He can teach you on the side, if you want to learn.  Never hurts to learn another job skill, just in case the market for photography tanks, no one’s hiring graphic designers, and your cousin can’t afford what you’re worth.”

That last bit seemed to perk her up.  “How do you know what I’m worth?” she challenged.  “My professors might think that I suck.”

He begged to differ.  “As your teacher, I would say that your oral skills need developed, but the student shows promise.  Think you’re ready for your next lesson?”

Mad Dog caught her hand and wrapped her fingers around his half-hard shaft.  “Just a hint.  The correct answer is yes….”

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Find Her: Avenging Angels MC Book 1

 

Find Her—Avenging Angels MC Book 1 by Nia Farrell

Length 40,627 words. Release date June 8, 2017

Amazon http://mybook.to/AAMC1. ASIN B071WCFFKQ

Goodreads http://bit.ly/AAMC1GR 

Cover Reveals http://bit.ly/AAMC1CR 

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Blurb: Rose McLanahan is the princess of the Avenging Angels MC, daughter of its president and sister to four of its members, including Vice President Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan.  But Rose has a secret.  She wants out of the clubhouse—and getting her CPA is her chance to have the normal life that she dreams about.

Michael O’Flaherty is a computer whiz, security systems expert, and an associate of the Avenging Angels MC.  He’s Mad Dog’s best friend, as well as his brother in arms.  Their days in Marine RECON are put to use when Michael is called in to find the niece of the local mob boss.  Krissy Castellari has been kidnapped by a rival club, the Blackwater Demons MC.  Michael discovers where she’s being held, but she’s not alone.  The Demons have Rose McLanahan, too.

Mad Dog and Michael join forces to extract the girls, but Rose is still in danger, having been promised to the son of the Demon’s president Reaper.  Mad Dog is tasked with returning Krissy to her family, and Michael agrees to take Rose away until it’s safe for her to return.  War has been declared.  Blood will be spilled.  Alone in the Angels’ safehouse, the Dominant Michael and submissive Rose will finally discover each other.

Welcome to the Avenging Angels MC, full of Alpha males, Dominant bikers, and the submissive women who love them.  Written for ages 18+.

EXCERPT:

She’d noticed before all this that he was an attractive man.  She’d have to be blind not to, with that dark Irish coloring of his, thick black hair, a sinful brush of lashes framing his brilliant blue eyes, and the short scruff of beard that he wore that was so irresistible on men.  Trouble was, she was totally off his radar, like he had mental blinders that kept him from noticing her.  She had remained on the periphery of his vision, always out of focus…

Until now.

And he didn’t like it.  It was unsettling.  Disturbing.  Something that he couldn’t control, and his Dominant nature found that unacceptable.  Well, too bad.  He wasn’t her Sir—not yet, anyway.  He was just going to have to deal with it.

She didn’t tell him that she’d seen the movie before.  It had been a while, so she couldn’t remember everything that happened.  Let him think it was her first time.  It would serve him right for shutting her out.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, watching the opening sequence.  “She must not be wearing lipstick, or she’d ruin that page she just pulled out of the typewriter.  And then she’d get spanked for it.  Maybe she wants spanked for it.  No, she needs her other hand free for the coffee.  Ah, I see.  Interesting office wear.  After this movie, do you think businesses started addressing spreader bars in their dress code?”

Michael rubbed his face and said nothing.

“She’s leaving home.  Just graduated and her dad’s sending her off into the world alone.  No, someone’s picking her up.  A wedding?  And that’s her gay best friend.  She doesn’t like the older guy hugging her.  What’s that stuff?  Wait.  She’s a cutter?  No shit.  But she stops herself.  Good girl.”

She kept it up, getting some of it right, telling some of it wrong.  Michael didn’t seem to appreciate that she thought the spanking scene was fucking hot, or like listening to the extended argument she had with herself, whether or not there was penetration.  “He’s probably just dry humping her,” she decided.  “He seems the type, to deny a girl her pleasure.”

“She’s being punished,” Michael growled.  “She hasn’t earned his cock or an orgasm.”

Rose was feeling reckless after her second beer.  “And what the hell does it take to earn a fucking cock?  The woman has done whatever he asked, from dumpster diving to crawling.  I’d say she’s more than earned it.”

“When she’s not being punished, yeah.  I suppose you’re right.  But not now.  Anything else waits.”

She drained her bottle and pointed it at him like an accusing finger.  “You know, women get tired of waiting, same as men.  He’ll be lucky if she stays.  A woman with that kind of devotion who gets kicks from his kink?  We’re a rare breed, Michael, but then, I guess you know that, right?  No steady girlfriend.  No permanent sub.  Still banging that housesitter of yours?  Heidi?  Brunhilde?”

“Gretchen,” he snapped, glowering.  “Her name is Gretchen, and that’s none of your fucking business.  How much have you had to drink?”

She stopped to think.  “Dos,” she deliberately slurred and held up two fingers and a thumb.  “See?  You’re not the only one who knows a foreign language.  Yo hablo español.”

Michael tsked and shook his head.  “Well, that’s two too many, princess.  No more today, if that’s all the better you can handle it.”

Rose sat up straight.  “I can handle it,” she argued, pinning Michael with her gaze.  “I can handle a lot of things.”  Keeping her eyes on him, she wagged a finger at the movie they were watching.  “I bet I could handle his kink.  I bet I could handle your kink.”

Michael crossed his arms and smirked at her.  “Oh, really?  You think you can handle me?  Little girl, you have no idea.”

Rose cringed.  “Don’t call me that!  I’m not a little girl.  I’m fucking nineteen years old, Crash!  When are you gonna stop treating me like a child and see that I’m all grown up?”

“When you stop fucking acting like one.”

Michael leveled that look—the one that commanded respect, demanded obedience, while every fiber of her being was daring her to disobey.

Clutching her empty bottle to her chest, she gave him her own incredulous look and shook her head in disbelief.  “You,” she grated, “are so fucking clueless.  You have no idea.  None!”  She rolled her eyes and barked a harsh laugh.  “You know what?  It doesn’t matter.  Screw this.  Screw you!”

Rose shot out of her seat and started walking.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Michael said, his voice filled with displeasure.

“The kitchen,” she snapped, refusing to look at him.  “I’m going to throw away my trash.”

“That will wait until I goddamn say so,” he said tightly, rising from his seat and stalking towards her.  “Fucking lot of nerve you’ve got, after everything I’ve done for you.  You think you can disrespect me like that and fucking walk away?  Think again, little girl.  You tease me, you rouse the beast.  You say you can handle kink.  Let’s start with a spanking.  See how hot you think it is when it’s your ass on fire.”

Rose shivered.  Michael took the beer bottle from her fingers and tossed it on the sofa.  He eyed the rounded end, then her.  “Bend over it.  Now!”

 Oh, God.

She draped herself over the end of the sofa, putting her hands on the seat cushion, bracing herself on straightened arms, preparing herself for what was coming.  When nothing came, she looked over her shoulder to find Michael staring at her ass.  Her T-shirt had ridden up, and her yoga pants had no panty lines.

Before she could chicken out, she reached behind her, hooked her thumbs in her waistband, and slid her pants to the middle of her thighs.  Reaching, she put her palms on the sofa cushion and waited for him to begin.

He stepped closer.  Covering one ass cheek with his large, capable hand, he tested it, mapping the contours, flexing his fingers, feeling the tone of her muscles, and judging resiliency.

The first spank smarted.  She grimaced but otherwise did not react.  The second blow fell hard enough to make her breath catch in her chest.  More strikes, on both sides, quicker, harder, working up to the flurry of them that they had watched.

By the time they finished, Rose was a sobbing mess and Michael had a raging hard on.

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Keeper: The Avenging Angels MC Introduction

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Keeper: The Avenging Angels MC Introduction by Nia Farrell

A smoking hot short story.  Length 2,724 words.

Release Date June 1, 2017

Amazon buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071S7P81W/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35158264-keeper

CoverReveals featured book June 3, 2017 https://coverreveals.blogspot.com/2017/06/keeper-by-nia-farrell.html   a6f88-coverrevealsbutton

Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan and Isabella Castellari have a history. Kind of. He’s a member of the Avenging Angels MC and one of four brothers whom she thinks slept with her sister. Or did they? Nothing is as it seems. Isabella’s world is turned upside down when lies are exposed, truths revealed, and the man she’s been fantasizing about for three long years makes her an offer that she should refuse but can’t.

What happens when MC meets erotic romance? Find out when you enter the newest world created by this award-winning author.

Written for ages 18+.

Excerpt:

Mad Dog grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him.  She went, helpless to do anything else.  In here, she needed his protection…even if it came at a price.

He opened a door and dragged her inside what looked to be his bedroom.  A small flat screen TV sat on a scarred maple chest of drawers.  The desk beside it held a printer and a laptop computer, its screen as black as Mad Dog’s soul.

Two interior doors led to what was likely a closet and what she hoped was a bathroom.  “Is there somewhere I can wash up?”

They both knew she was stalling for time.  He humored her anyway.  “On the left,” he said, smirking.  “Don’t get lost.”

As if she could.  It was the tiniest bathroom she’d ever seen.  The stool and sink were opposite each other, so close, she could nearly use them both.  The shower was better, spanning the other wall, roomy enough for a man Mad Dog’s size and likely big enough to share.

She used two squares of tissue to lower the seat so she could go, then did a surgical scrub on her hands.  Pulling up her knit top, she covered her fingers and twisted the door knob.

Mad Dog was looking at her e-reader.

 Shit.

He grinned like the very devil.  “Seems little sister has a thing for MC’s.  Who’d have guessed?”

“They’re just books,” she snapped, plucking the reader from his hand and sticking it back in her bag.  “Fiction.  Just because I read it doesn’t mean I want it in real life.”

“Krissy did,” he drawled.  “She wanted gang banged.  Trouble is, she hooked up with the wrong club.  She’s lucky we came along when we did.  You might not have seen her again.”

Isabella felt her legs start to buckle.  Mad Dog caught her and pulled her to sit beside him on the bed.

She stared up at him, remembering, wondering how she could have gotten it so wrong.

Krissy.  Prissy Krissy.  Too proud to admit where she’d been, she’d said nothing, just let them think she’d spent the night with Mad Dog and his brothers.

And now her best friend was banging one of them.

Isabella hoped it was only one.

“What about Anna?”

He tsked.  “Don’t give me that look.  I’m not my brother’s keeper.  Richie’s been seeing her for two months or so now.  They seem…fond of each other.”

“Fond?”  She barked a laugh.  “Is that what you call it?”

He angled his head.  “You don’t have to be fond of someone to give them a blow job.  You don’t even have to like them.”  He fastened his gaze on her mouth.  “You just have to be willing…and understand the rules.  Only one of us gets to bite, and it’s not you, Isabella.”

He reached for her breast, then, and she let him.  Three years of forbidden fantasies were suddenly within her grasp.  His was hard enough to bruise.

“My rules.  My way,” he growled, pinching her nipple and making her moan.  “I like it rough, little girl.  You have no idea.  I doubt that you can handle me, but if you want to try….”

Did she?

Isabella’s mouth went dry, and she wet her lips.  “How rough?”

Mad Dog caught her chin and pushed his thumb into her mouth.   “Rough,” he rumbled, his blue eyes darkening when she started sucking and teasing it with her tongue.  “Spanking.  Bondage.  My belt, if you beg me for it.  I like oral, and I like anal.  Say the word, and I’ll take you home.  If you stay, you’re gonna get ridden hard and put away wet.”

He pulled his thumb from her mouth and fisted her hair.  “Go or stay?”  He pulled downward, forcing her face up to meet his.

“Stay…”

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