Sold to the Bikers by Stephanie Brother EPUB & PDF

Sold to the Bikers by Stephanie Brother EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  •  Author: Stephanie Brother
  • Language: English
  •  Formats: PDF / EPUB
  •  Status: Available For Free Download
  •  Genre: Contemporary Women’s Fiction
  •  Price: Free
  •  File Size: 2 MB
  • Publish Date: April 11, 2023

NATALIE
“I’M GONNA HAVE TO SEE SOME ID THERE, MISS.” HEAVY METAL BOOMS OUT
of the doors behind the bouncer at the Eagles’ Roost and echoes off the walls
across the street.
He folds his muscled arms over his broad chest and looks down at me with
stern, dark eyes made even more imposing by the white scars that slash
across his face, straight through his right eyebrow and continuing down his
cheek.

I shudder to think what might’ve caused them, but they do nothing to detract
from his high cheekbones, strong jaw and lips that look ready to kiss a girl
senseless.
“What? Oh, right.” I snap out of it and flash him my driver’s license, while I
stretch up on my toes to see over his shoulder into the bar. This is exactly the
kind of place my little sister shouldn’t be if she’s going to get her life back on
track. She promised me she’d gotten rid of her fake ID. Guess not.
He picks the card out of my fingers with a quick grab. His tattooed arms flex
as he aims a flashlight down to read. “Twenty-two? Really? This fucking
real? You don’t look twenty-two.”

“Of course it’s real! Come on. Do I look like I’m here to party? I just need to
pick up my little sister.” Who for some reason—even though she was the one
who called for me to come pick her up—is nowhere to be seen.
He grins mischievously as he pulls his long hair out of his eyes. “You look
plenty good to me, but if you’re not a paying customer, maybe I shouldn’t
even be letting you in.”

“Please! I don’t have time for this.”
The glint in his eyes makes it almost seem like he’s flirting, but there’s no
way a guy like him would flirt with me. He’s rough and wild, just like this
bar. I could totally see him leaning against the counter with a bottle in his
hand and a girl on his arm, but that girl’s not me. Five minutes together and
he’d find out I can’t string two sentences together with a hot guy.

Maybe it’s the desperation in my tone, or just that there are more people
lining up behind me, but he relents and returns my license. “Go ahead, but
save a dance for me.” And then he winks over a cocky smirk that probably
has him drowning in pussy when he wants it.

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