Biker’s Baby Girl Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 87908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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I’d been harboring a serious hard on for her since then, but I have more control than to take advantage of the young girl who’d been dependent on me her whole life.

Instead I made a deal with myself. If she was still single at twenty-one I was gonna take her no matter the fuck what. Now I know that that’s a lie. I would’ve moved anyone out of the way to get to her. Thank fuck it hadn’t come to that.

In all these years she’d never even hinted at a boy, and she’d never really outgrown that sweet shy thing she had going on that made me want to wrap her up in cotton balls and keep her safe.

I’d kept my ears to the ground and selfishly hoped that she never fell for any of the little fuckers who were always sniffing around her. It had taken everything in me not to beat the fuck outta the kid who’d asked her to prom, but she’d turned him down, she wanted to go with me.

I maybe should’ve talked her out of it, but what the fuck, I’ve never been one for guile. In the end I’d taken her to prom, which made her the envy of all her little girlfriends if I do say so myself.

And when the same kid had given her shit later about it and someone had given me a heads-up, I’d dropped in on him for a nice little chat. That little fuck never had much to say to her after that.

After the prom I’d gone back to keeping my distance, even though I must’ve studied the million and one pictures I’d insisted we take that night, a hundred times or more.

By then I was a selfish bastard who wanted all her firsts to be mine. As much as I stayed away, I lived for the days she’d call me, so that just the sound of her voice could soothe the beast.

We still had a standing appointment to talk on the phone every Sunday night no matter where I was, and I travelled a lot, and was always up to some fuckery. It kept me from going crazy for want of her.

But no matter what was going on in my life, I always made time for her, she always knew that she came first; at least I hope she did. It was because of her that I’d taken up the cause I had, freeing young girls from fucked up situations.

My boys and I basically travelled the country wherever there was a need and put douches in their fucking place.

We like to put a beat down on any asshole who thinks it’s cool to abuse or in any way fuck with the female of the species. In two years we’d built such a rep for ourselves that we now had a backlog.

I’d found someone trust worthy to run the shop, which was the crew’s main source of income, along with the few apartment buildings I’d bought for cheap and cleaned up.

I had more money now than I’d ever dreamed of, but realized early on that the shit was only good for but so much. It couldn’t erase the ugly that was some people, and it couldn’t remove the pain. It did have its purposes though, and I was waiting not too patiently to shower her with all the shit it could buy.

Everything I did was with her in mind. I never wanted her to be that helpless little girl again, and me being me back then there was no guarantee that I’d always be around to protect her. Lately though I’ve been thinking really hard about a long life. A life with her and my kids!

It was the first fucking dream I’d ever allowed myself, the only one I haven’t tried to kill at its inception. As the day of her twenty-first birthday drew near it was all I could do to stay the fucking course. I’d been lining shit up in my head almost everyday, when I wasn’t killing myself to stay busy until the time came.

It figures that as soon as the time drew near my patience was at an end. But I made myself hold on for her, and because of the secret promise I’d made myself. I told myself she was worth waiting for, and that if I could hang in there until D-day, well then I would’ve proven just that to myself, and in the bargain, proven that she meant more to me than the rest.

Then word had come through late last night from my boy Law that the aunt’s piece a shit racist fuck boyfriend had been going into her room at night. Word was that he hadn’t struck as yet, but I wasn’t gonna give the fucker the chance. I’d been on the road not long after I’d heard that fuckery, not even taking time to safeguard my own shit; she comes first always.



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