Book #1 Nomad Outlaws Trilogy
Four years ago, Rebel saved Ginger by claiming her as his, a desperate act to keep them both alive, then vanished. Now, Bike Week in Daytona Beach throws them back into each other's paths. He's a dangerous nomad, a ruthless killer, and her addiction. She, in turn, is his. Can they bury the past and find a future together, or is it already too late?
Excerpt
I grabbed Ginger by the hand and pulled her out of the room, down the hall and to the bathroom. Her resistance was futile, her fear unimportant. I knew what I had to do, and if she were smart, she'd realize it, too. If she wanted to live. I opened the bathroom door and yanked her inside, thankful that I found it empty. It was filthy, but better than nothing, and it had a shower that everyone used when they felt the need to be clean, which wasn't often.
Ginger
spun around when I shut the door, the look of a trapped animal in her pretty
blues. I ignored her growing terror, steeling myself for what I had to do.
Even behind closed doors I had to make it real, had to be convincing that I
was an unfeeling bastard. I saw her swallow, could see her tits rising and
falling rapidly as the fear of the unknown overwhelmed her. She was expecting
the worst, preparing herself to do whatever she had to do to survive.
"Take
off your clothes." I kept my tone harsh, indifferent to her growing panic. She
shook her head vigorously and stepped back, slamming hard against the cracked
porcelain sink. A nervous cry escaped her, and her eyes were wild as she took
in her surroundings and realized that there was no escape. Her gaze touched on
the door behind me before meeting my eyes.
"Please‒"
"Take off your
f**king clothes," I said in an uncaring, demanding tone. "You're filthy, and
not in a way that turns me on. Now undress." I removed my cut and the t-shirt
beneath it. "In fact, I think I'll join you." Her eyes nearly popped out of
her head at that. "If you're not undressed by the time I'm out of my clothes,
you won't like the consequences."
I kicked off my boots as my hands went
to the front of my pants. As I’d expected she would, Ginger's small
hands began to unbutton her blouse. Slowly she began to expose enticing,
creamy skin to my wandering eyes. I undid my pants. She lowered her gaze to
the floor and turned around before reluctantly removing the garment. I let her
have her moment of modesty before I looked into the mirror in front of her.
Christ. I took notice of her perfect tits and rosy tips. I lowered my zipper,
the sound of it overloud in the tiny room. I could tell that she knew what I
was doing by the stiffening of her backside, but she didn't let it stop her
from removing her jeans. As I kicked mine away, hers hit the floor.
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