Q – Satan’s Fury MC Read Online L. Wilder

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
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“Wait.” Intrigued, I eased up on my elbow and looked down at her. “Everyone knows if they’re a cat or dog person.”

“Not me. I’ve never really had a chance to find out.” Her voice grew soft with embarrassment as she admitted, “I’ve never been to the beach. I’ve never been hiking or ridden a motorcycle. I’ve never been to a nightclub or stayed in a fancy hotel. So, I have no idea if I’d like those things or not.”

“Well, we’ve gotta do something about that.”

“Oh, really?” A soft smile slipped across her lips. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Wait and see?”

“That’s right.” I laid back down on the pillow as I told her, “It’s late. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

To my amazement, she didn’t protest. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. It wasn’t long before her breathing slowed, and I knew she’d finally fallen back asleep.

It felt good lying there next to her.

It felt right.

It was a feeling I intended to hold onto.

JULES

They say you should hold on to those who are good to you and forget those who aren’t. I’d tried to do that, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget James or my father. All the awful things they’d said and done still haunted me, and it made it hard to believe that I wasn’t the piece of crap they told me I was. It also made it hard to trust men—all men, so I’d spent the last couple of years avoiding them at all costs.

And then, Q came along.

I’d planned to keep him at arm’s length, but after a night of pool, shots, and a decent amount of flirting, I let him take me home—or so I thought.

Before I realized what was happening, I was in his bathroom, hugging his commode. Needless to say, I was in bad shape. My head was pounding, my stomach was queasy, and I just wanted it to stop. I was on my way back to the living room sofa when I spotted Q’s king-sized bed. It looked so inviting with its thick comforter and oversized pillows.

I ran my hand across the soft fabric, and it just seemed to call out to me. Thinking that I would be okay if I could just lay down for a minute, I pulled off my boots and crawled into his bed. I rested my head on his soft pillowcase, smelling a hint of his cologne, and that’s all it took.

I was out.

I woke up hours later, alone and unsettled, and before I realized what I was doing, I’d called out to Q. We spent the next hour talking, and I couldn’t remember enjoying someone’s company more. I felt like it was a dream. The next morning, I expected to be thrown back into reality, but the dream continued...

“Good morning, sleepy head.” I turned to face the door and found Q standing there with a warm smile on his face. He was already dressed in his jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt, and unlike me, he was clearly ready to start the day. “You hungry?”

“Umm, yeah. I guess.”

“Great.” He motioned his hand to the end of the bed. “I left you a pair of sweats if you wanna take a shower.”

I sat up and looked down at my feet, and just as I feared, there was a man’s hoodie and pair of sweats lying there. Dread washed over me when I thought about the last time I’d tried to wear one of James’s sweatshirts. It looked plenty big, and I thought for sure that it would fit, but I could barely pull it over my head. And even when I did manage to get it on, it hugged every undesirable curve and indentation, making me look even bigger than I was.

I hated the idea of looking that way in front of Q, so I told him, “That’s okay. I’ll just put mine back on.”

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“They’re soaked in vomit. Besides, it’s chilly out there this morning. You’ll be warmer in those.” Without giving me a chance to argue further, he turned and walked out of the room. “Be ready to chow down in twenty.”

With great apprehension, I tossed the covers back and forced myself out of Q’s bed. I grabbed the clothes he’d left me, then headed to the bathroom. I turned on the water, and as I started to remove my clothes, memories of the night before started fluttering through my mind. I’d already remembered getting sick in the bathroom and crawling into Q’s bed, but things that transpired at the bar were still a little foggy.

I pulled off Q’s t-shirt and cringed at the thought of him seeing me in only my bra. And even worse, seeing me with my head buried in a toilet for hours on end. I had no doubt it was quite a sight. Overcome with regret and embarrassment, I got in the shower and let the warm water flow down my shoulders.



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