Keywords: MC Romance, May/December, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Suspense, Series, HEA
When a barely-legal blonde with a lithe, young body shows up at the Devil’s Outlaw MC strip joint to audition as a dancer, Ian “Bowie” Davies wants nothing more than to burrow between her long legs and claim her. She's too young for his dominant side though, too innocent for the sharp edges of his darker desires. And way too hot to let another man touch her -- a thought that has his hands itching to use his signature knives against any bastard who messes with his angel.
Hannah Harris ran away from home at age eighteen, desperate to escape the prison of her strict parents. Determined to delight in the sins her father preaches against, she puts her ballet talents to work, using a stripper pole to make a living. Dancing for Bowie and his blade has her panting to explore some of the “firsts” she planned to save for her future husband.
But when Bowie and his brothers attempt extortion beyond her parent’s ten-thousand dollar reward for Hannah's safe return, she's left with a difficult choice. Offer up the evidence to put the notorious biker gang behind bars, or protect Bowie and chalk the shit-show up as a lesson learned and begin her independent life anew -- without the lying bastard who owns her heart.
Can Bowie cut through the blindfold of lies on Hannah’s eyes and surrender the truth in his heart to win her back?
*Warning: Spanking, anal sex, knife play
PURCHASE LINKS:
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Read an excerpt
The scent
of evergreen and something warm and mouth-watering washed over me. I moved
inside the office, every inch of my skin tingling.
Framed
pictures of nude women, in chains and gagged, tied up and panting, lined the
walls, snaring my gaze and instantaneously dampening my panties. My lips parted
before I could stop them sucking in a gasp. I’d seen my fair share of porn and
naughty images since lighting out on my own, but none of them had turned me on
in the way the stark black-and-white images on the office walls did.
Perhaps it
was the combination of the scent flooding my nose along with the images, but
desire to be one of those women swept over me, and I bit my lower lip against
the rush of warmth between my thighs.
“Who are
you?”
A shiver
slid over my skin as the sexy, raspy voice caressed my ears. I turned my focus
on the brown-haired man behind the desk, and my heart seized, robbing me of
breath.
Caramel-colored
eyes squinted from a clean-shaven face with the most alluring lips I’d ever set
eyes on, perfectly bowed on top and plump on bottom. I wanted to lick across
his mouth, see if he tasted like I’d always expected my first kiss would.
He stood,
and my gaze stalled on the tight, black T-shirt hugging every ripple of his
upper body. My mouth flooded with drool, and I swallowed. Sinfully sexy.
Hottest man on the planet. Temptation in the form of an apple like Satan must
have offered Eve, and oh, how I wanted a bite.
I gulped as
he rounded the desk and approached me, moving like a lion, silently stalking
me, crowding in close enough my feet shuffled backward on instinct. He followed
until I bumped into the door I hadn’t even heard close behind me.
I cursed
myself from one end of D.C. to the other for how quickly timid, little Past
Hannah took over my body, slouching me beneath his stare. I swallowed as I
realized the heat in his eyes had nothing to do with anger, but pure lust, and
I dropped my gaze from his, my heart in my throat.
He brushed
some of my hair over my shoulder, his fingertips grazing along the side of my
neck before he clasped my nape in his hand and squeezed.
A shudder
rippled down through me, and I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning. My mind
screamed danger, but my body screamed yes as he dipped his head, running his
nose beneath my ear to my collarbone, his body like a furnace mere inches from
me.
“Mmm.
Cotton candy.” He nuzzled the hollow of my throat, tightened his hold on my
neck, and turned my head, sliding his nose up toward my other ear while
clasping his other hand on my waist. His hot breath pebbled my skin. “If I
licked you, would you melt on my tongue like sugar?”
The man had
complete control over me, something I vowed to myself would never happen again.
“I-I think I’ve made a mistake,” I somehow managed to whisper past the
thrumming pulse beneath the pad of his thumb.
He pulled
back enough to look me in the eyes, his slow smile revealed a dimple in his
right cheek. If not for the door at my back, I would have swooned. “You’re
right where you belong, sugar.”
Oh, mercy,
yes. My eyes clenched shut and I gulped.
© Lynn Burke 2018
ABOUT LYNN BURKE:
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
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