Wanted by the Bikers – Screaming Eagles MC Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
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Kaylee opens wider, and I push deeper. She gags a little, but wraps her hand around my shaft to control the depth, her grip tight and fucking perfect.

“Holy shit. Good girl,” Tank groans.

I grip the back of the couch and close my eyes, focusing on the slide of my cock between her fingers and into the hot depths of her mouth. My orgasm hits not as a slow build but as a flash flood. The surge comes suddenly, just as she reaches out and slides her fingertips over my balls. With a deep groan racking my whole damn body, I give her everything. Her eyes go wide, but she takes it all, swallowing fast. Her cheeks cave as I pull out, totally fucking drained.

Tank's moving to take my place when my back pocket starts to vibrate. I pull out my phone. “Hey, Chef. What's—”

“Get back. There's been a fucking incident with the prospects.”

19

KAYLEE

Wraith, Tank and Nitro stalk into the warehouse like they’re going to war. I hurry along between them, glad I’m not the one they’re looking for. I’m still reeling from the way they switched immediately into business mode as soon as Nitro got that call.

“This is fucking bullshit,” an angry male voice booms from inside the common room. “Who are you going to believe? Me or that bitch slut?”

The way he says those words feels like a slap. Calling the women who hang out at the club ‘sluts’ doesn’t exactly sit easily with me to begin with, but while I’ve gotten the feeling that it’s more of a crude term of endearment than an insult with these guys, there isn’t any endearment in that voice.

“Go sit at the bar,” Tank orders, pointing. “Stay where we can fucking see you.” His anger isn’t directed at me, but it’s still there, simmering under the surface and making me uneasy.

On one of the couches by the TV, the pink haired woman I saw earlier is comforting a crying brunette with a torn shirt. Around her are several men. I don’t really know any of them by name, but I’ve seen most of them around by now.

“Jewel? What the fuck is going on?” Wraith snaps.

A man with a shaved head wearing a black vest with a patch that just says ‘prospect’ on it crosses his arms in front of his chest and scowls. “You going to listen to her side first?”

“Shut the fuck up, Deuce.”

Jewel—the woman with the pink hair—looks absolutely furious. “I was hanging out with the girls when he and his buddy came over looking for some fun while they watched a game. They’re just prospects, but there wasn’t much going on and Kaia didn’t mind.”

“Kaia?” Tank prompts.

The brunette looks up, messy black circles under her eyes from her makeup. “They wanted me to suck them off, but I said no. Mad Dog bitched about it, but I offered to give him a handie and then he was chill.” She glares at Deuce. “But he grabbed my head and tried to force me. When I put up a fight, he—” She sits up straighter so we can all see the growing red mark on the side of her face.

Deuce rolls his eyes. “It was a fucking love tap. What the hell are they here for if they say no?”

“You fucking joking?” Nitro asks, spitting venom with each word. “If you’ve got a problem with the sluts, you take it to us or another officer. Nobody forces them to do shit. If that’s the kind of club you’re looking for, you walk out the fucking door right now. You’re already on thin ice and you know it.”

Something ugly flashes across Deuce’s face before he pushes it down and nods. “Fine.”

Tank’s eyes narrow. Without a word, he cocks his arm and punches Deuce right in the side of his head. Deuce staggers back, cursing. It’s fast and brutal. I’ve always thought violence wasn’t the answer, but deep inside, watching them punish Deuce soothes part of the hurt I felt when Harris slapped me and nobody cared.

“Get the fuck out, both of you. You’re both banned from the clubhouse until you hear otherwise.”

“If you fuck this up for me, I’ll rip your dick off,” Mad Dog snarls at Deuce, grabbing his arm and hauling him out of the room.

Behind me at the bar, a man with a red dragon tattoo that wraps around his head and down his neck growls. “One more strike and that asshole’s out.”

“They should have let Kaia kick him in the balls.” It drops out of me before I think to wonder if my opinion is even welcome around here.

The man bursts out laughing. “I’d love to see that, but it would fuck shit up for her and she knows it. Your bodyguards there are helping show the prospects the ropes. Getting reprimanded might piss them off, but it’s part of life in the club. We have a hierarchy and the prospects are on the bottom of it.”



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