A member of the notorious bad boy motorcycle club, Fallen Angels, Beau Colt MacDonald is as rough and mean as they come. A hulking giant of a man, he is known for being one of few words, so Beau doesn’t mince any when it comes to forbidding his younger stepsister from joining the Fallen Angels’ sister club, Angels’ Wings. Although, Angels’ Wings is known for its legit female bikers, it is equally infamous because of the biker groupies who call themselves members. So Beau is determined that the only way his little stepsister will ever become an Angels’ Wing is over his dead body. Tia is furious because Beau still thinks he can boss her around but she is no longer a little girl who is scared and intimidated by her older stepbrother’s gruff ways—and she is about to prove it. It’s time that Beau gets it through his thick, stubborn skull that Tia is now a grown woman, and she’s going to get him to finally realize this the only way she knows how—by showing him. When Tia poses as one of the dancers at the local strip club Beau frequents, she only plans to prank her stepbrother until she can convince him to let her join Angels’ Wings. But Tia quickly realizes she may have gotten more than she bargained for when she finds herself alone with Beau in a darkened, secluded room reserved for private dances. Tia thought she was going to settle the score, but Beau is the one who is about to get even when he finally shows Tia that she isn’t the only one who isn’t a kid anymore.
He felt like a pervert, jacking off nightly to fantasies of him pounding his dick into his little sister’s tight wet pussy. That was why he retreated to Trixie’s Girls every Friday. The club provided a reprieve from her. And on Saturdays he would ride with the Fallen Angels and meet up at the local bar afterwards. It was bad enough he had to see her every single day, including on Sundays for their family dinners. So there was no way in hell he was going to give yet another day to her. If she joined Angels’ Wings he’d be forced to see her most Saturdays too—and his dick could only handle so much. Like he’d said, a man needed his goddamned space and some fucking privacy.
The lights which had been dim in the room, turned up just a little, and Beau noticed then the faint pulse of hip-hop music echoing around him. His frown deepened.
He hadn’t paid for a private dance—he’d never had the inclination or desire. He came to the club to have some beers and get away from her—nothing more. So he’d naturally been surprised when the owner, who was actually named Trixie, hustled him into the private room and gave him some bullshit line that she was having one of her girls give him a private dance on the house for being such a loyal customer.
Yeah right. Trixie was a cheap, stingy ass old woman who never missed a chance for the club to make an extra dollar, so Beau had known right then something was going on, but Trixie wasn’t talking. As soon as she’d gotten him into the room she’d slammed the door and locked it shut.
Sitting on the plush, red velvet couch that dominated the room, Beau was seconds away from launching out of his seat and breaking the door down if he had to. He’d had enough of the suspense, and was tired of sitting there just waiting. But before he could move, the door suddenly opened and in walked one of the dancers.
His gaze started at her delicate feet, encased in five-inch clear platform heels, before trailing the length of her long, shapely legs. With narrowed eyes, he took in her wide hips, taut middle, and tiny waist. But his attention lingered for a long time on her breasts, which were so full and heavy they threatened to tumble out of her sequined bikini top at any moment.
Despite himself, his cock hardened behind the zipper of his jeans, and he had to clench his fists to keep from emitting a low grown. Had his gaze stopped there, he wouldn’t have completely lost his shit. But he had to see the face of the woman with the perfect body that had him ready to nut in his pants.
Even her neck was beautiful, he thought, long and slender, and a shudder raced through him as he imagined running his tongue across her butter soft coffee hued skin. Her hair was long, thick and lustrous, and the maple brown locks were streaked with honey blonde that cascaded over her shoulders to frame her heart-shaped face—a beautiful heart-shaped face with berry ripe lips, sharp cheekbones, and topaz hued eyes that tilted upwards at the corners. It was a beautiful heart-shaped face indeed, one he instantly recognized since it appeared in every single one of his dirty, perverted fantasies.
His blood turned molten, a combination of lust and fury, as every muscle in his body knotted with anger.
“What the fuck are you doing here…in that?”
This book was added to our catalog on Monday 25 September, 2017.