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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Fuckin’ shame, because I was ready to go.

The girl stood awkwardly, putting the table between us and biting her lip. Small white teeth, ripe red flesh . . . I wanted to suck that lip in, then fuck her mouth with my tongue. No, just fuck her mouth, period. Shit, at this rate I’d blow the fly right off my jeans.

Business first.

I needed to cool off or I’d break her in half when I screwed her. Maybe I should jack off ahead of time? Take off the edge . . . not a bad idea. Her tongue darted, wetting those bright, juicy lips, and I held back a groan.

“Your man here?” I asked, forcing myself to focus. “We need to talk.”

A look of confusion crossed her face. The music shut down abruptly. Her eyes darted back behind me, widening as she saw Pic pulling her keys out of the ignition. Then I heard the crunch of gravel as my brothers started toward us, and the confusion on her face shifted back toward panic.

“You mean Jeff? He’s in town,” she said, paling. She stepped back, putting more space between us, looking toward my fellow Reapers again. “Why don’t you wait out here while I call him?”

I studied her, wondering if she was telling the truth. Jensen was just pussy enough to hide behind a woman. Then her eyes drifted down across my cut, like she couldn’t help herself. Her gaze felt like fingers against my skin as she checked out my patches, and any lingering doubt I’d had about whether she knew bikers disappeared. She had no clue what it meant when a man put on a cut. I’d definitely have to educate her about my world.

“Sure thing, babe,” I said, swinging a leg over the bench to straddle it. She backed away slowly but steadily as Pic and Max joined me.

“How about a drink, girl?” Picnic asked. She nodded and turned toward the trailer, ass twitching as she walked away. Nice view. Max gave a dirty laugh, clearly enjoying the show, and I had to restrain myself from hitting the man.

Asshole should leave my girl alone.

My girl? What the fuck? I didn’t have girls. I fucked them and moved on, because life was too damned short to deal with their bullshit. Sure, I was considering leaving with her on the back of my bike, but it wasn’t like I’d be keeping her. I just wanted enough time to fuck her out of my system. Where had that thought come from?

“Where do you think Jensen found a bitch like that?” Max asked, and while I’d considered the same question earlier, I didn’t like hearing Max call her a bitch. In fact, I didn’t want Max calling her anything. I’d never been Max’s biggest fan.

“Small town girls,” Picnic said. “Not exactly a lot of options. Still, she’s too pretty to be scraping bottom. You think he’s in there pissing his pants while he hides under the bed?”

I glanced over to the trailer and caught a hint of movement at the window. She peeked through the curtains at me, cell against her ear, looking small and vulnerable. That vulnerability called to me and I licked my lips.

“No, she’s making a phone call,” I said. “He’s not here. I wonder if he’ll make a run for it?”

“You think he’d leave her to us?” Max asked, sounding a little too eager. “Hot piece like that should be on her back. Lookin’ forward to that.”

“Shut it down,” Pic said sharply. “She’s with Horse now.”

“I want her when you’re done,” Max said, looking at me.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snapped, and Max laughed.

“Cockblocker.”

“Seriously, Max, shut the fuck up,” Picnic replied, his voice like ice.

Silence fell over the table. Then the door to the trailer opened and the woman came out. She held a tall, purple plastic cup in one hand, a smaller cup with a spoon in it in the other, and two more purple cups held against her chest with her arm. She’d changed into a faded T-shirt that had to be at least an extra-large and a pair of those half pants chicks like, the ones that go below the knee. Fuckin’ shame, because those curves shouldn’t be covered. On the other hand, anything that kept Max’s eyes off her was probably a good thing.

“You call your man?” I asked. For reasons I didn’t care to examine, figuring out her relationship with Jeff-hole had turned into a high priority.

“My man?” she asked, looking confused.

“Jensen.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it, thoughts passing behind her eyes too fast for me to read.

“Girlie, answer the fuckin’ question,” Picnic commanded, voice like a whip. She jumped, splashing whatever was in the cup across her breast. Her nipple beaded up from the cold and I forgot to breathe. I shifted on the bench, rethinking my decision to wait.



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