Stripping Her Defenses Read online

  The thing was, I wasn’t so certain it was worry over his back and walking again. He had some other kind of demon he was battling, a demon I quickly surmised might have red hair and be the best friend of Baker’s woman.

  Before Riley got out of the door after Declan kicked us out of his room, Declan asked if anyone had called his phone. Riley had been holding onto Declan’s cell while he was recuperating in the hospital.

  I watched as the concern Riley had worn for days disappeared and pity replaced it when he replied, “No, she hasn’t called.” Declan nodded and waved us away after that.

  Taking a swig of my beer, my mind wandered to her. The sound of Riley laughing next to me made me grateful I wasn’t the only one having woman problems. First Baker, then Sullivan, and now it looked like the other Sullivan was jumping on board the crazy train to woman-ville. At least Baker and Riley’s situations had had a good ending. Who the fuck would have thought the Ex Ops Team would come down to Miami to catch the scum behind a sex slave ring and end up finding Sullivan’s wife? However, the fact that he had Kara by his side now almost gave me hope.

  I glanced over to Riley and stared at the smile he wore. It was odd to see him smile. As long as I’d known him he’d been a black cloud of emotions. Now, a completely different person sat in front of me, and I couldn’t help being happy for him. We might have had our differences where his jealousy of my former Army brethren, Ice, was concerned, but ultimately, I couldn’t blame him for how he’d felt at the time.

  That being said, I knew exactly what it was like to be driven fuckin’ nuts by a woman. Riley was a lucky son of a bitch, and I bet he knew it. I wasn’t so lucky.

  There was no one other than myself to blame for my misery, though. I’d kept the woman meant for me at arm’s length for half our lives. Then, when she’d thrown herself at me in what I now knew was one last desperate attempt to express her feelings for me, I’d shut her down harshly. No, harsh wasn’t the word. Brutally.

  Coldly.

  Angrily even.

  Ginny had thought that anger had been directed at her and her many attempts to declare her love for me. If only she’d known I was angry at myself instead. Because I’d convinced myself I couldn’t have the one woman I wanted more than my next breath.

  In essence, she tried to hand me her heart, and I metaphorically threw it to the ground and crushed it under my boot. She’d been avoiding me for five years since that fateful day.

  I missed her presence the way one would miss their soul if it were taken from them. That was probably because the woman was my soul. Unfortunately, I never told her this.

  It all went to hell on the last visit home that I saw her. That was the visit I broke her irreparably while drunk, once again being an ass.

  I’d tried to make amends, but she wouldn’t let me.

  She wouldn’t answer my phone calls. She dodged all my attempts to visit her before I had to go back to my base by taking an impromptu vacation. She wouldn’t respond to my letters while I was overseas. No, she wouldn’t give me anything. I was cut off, shut down, and it was done.

  Then I got the news from my family, while I was stationed once again in the Kandahar Province, that her mom had died suddenly, and Gin had shut down. I couldn’t get my girl to talk to me. She was all alone while I was stuck in Kandahar for another six months.

  My gut churned.

  I wrote twice as many letters. Called on the few times I could try. Tried to get information about her from my family to no avail. Nothing.

  Then, on another desperate call to my mother, she dropped the bomb.

  Gin had taken a job in Chicago. She was moving away in a week.

  It was now five years later, and I hadn’t heard from her since.

  Now, here I sat in a strip club, surrounded by beautiful women and plenty of other people, and I couldn’t give two shits. I was happy for Sullivan, but his happiness was making me remember what I’d lost.

  “Holy shit. If that chick wasn’t utterly wasted, she’d be a bombshell,” I heard Chase say from the other side of the table.

  Well, people watching was better than musing over what I didn’t have, so I looked up in the direction that Chase was staring in and promptly felt my heart drop to the vicinity of my feet.

  Because there, across the large VIP area, was what I’d lost.

  Now, she was found.

  In a micro mini red dress, she was dancing sloppily to the music, her eyes glassy, indicating she was probably high and drunk, as some playboy in a fucking suit watched her with a displeased yet possessive gaze.

  Maybe Miami was the lost and found for men who had epically fucked up their love lives.

  A hand clapped down on my shoulder, and I looked over to see Riley looking at me in concern.

  “You okay, man? Kara just said our party room in the back is ready, and you didn’t even hear her.”

  Looking over his shoulder to where Kara stood, I apologized for not hearing her, and then looked back to Sullivan. “You all go ahead. I’ve got something I need to handle first.”

  Riley’s eyebrows shot up. “You do?”

  I nodded.

  “You need back-up?” Chase asked.

  Shaking my head, I gave them the truth. “My past is flashin’ her ass in a red dress across the room and strung out of her mind. I’m gonna go find out why, and then I’m gonna be her goddamn fortune teller and explain what her fucking future is.”

  “And that is?” Kara asked, eyes full of curiosity, although a smile was on her face.

  “Me.”

  Note From The Author

  Thank you for reading Stripping Her Defenses! You’re the absolute best for giving little ol’ me a chance. For every Indie Author you read, somewhere out there a fairy gets its wings! Okay, maybe not, but it still seems pretty magical.

  For those of you thinking, “WAIT! She didn’t resolve all of the issues!” You’re absolutely right – I didn’t. If you’ve read my books before, by now you should know that I usually don’t. Some issues will be solved in the next book, Sweet Recovery, such as Lucas’ girl. Other issues, such as the bad guys who got away, will be resolved immediately in a spin off book I’m co-writing with Chelsea Camaron, Ice, Regulators MC #1. So, keep the faith, and if you’re interested in continuing, pick up the next book to see where the series is headed from here after it releases.

  I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, please consider leaving a review at your favorite online retailers, such as Amazon and Barnes & Noble, or review websites such as Goodreads. These are great ways to help spread the word about books to readers who have yet to discover them. There are excerpts from my friends’ books, so make sure you keep turning those pages! Happy reading!

  About the Author

  Jessie Lane is the best-selling author of The Star Series, Big Bad Bite Series and the Ex Ops Series. She writes paranormal and contemporary romance, as well as Upper YA Paranormal Romance/Fantasy.

  She lives in Kentucky with her two little Rock Chicks in the making and her over protective alpha husband. She has a passionate love for reading and writing naughty romance, cliff hanging suspense, and out-of-this-world characters that demand your attention, or threaten to slap you around until you do pay attention to them.

  For more information on Jessie Lane:

  http://jessielanebooks.com/

  Sign Up for Jessie’s Newsletter

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  Or you can send Jessie Lane an email at:

  [email protected]

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  Merciless Ride

  By

  Chelsea Camaron

  Copyright ©2014 Chelsea Camaron

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

  in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.


  Mercy is no friend of mine. Karma, she has yet to show kindness to me.

  The hits just keep on coming for Tessie Marie Harlow. She has never had an easy life. Her mom disabled, her dad long gone, and a single mom raising a rambunctious little boy, that’s Tessie’s world.

  Her childhood aspirations to be a nurse long since disappeared after a college spring fling both blessed and burdened her with a baby boy. Dropping out of school, she returns to her hometown and begins to settle in. Getting the only job she could as a bartender she spends her days caring for her son and nights serving the Hellions Motorcycle Club and their affiliates.

  Tired of waiting for Rex to grow up, she’s faced with the bane existence of her life until one night changes everything. In the darkest hour of her merciless ride through life, she’s saved by a quiet, laid back Hellion.

  Andy ‘Shooter’ Jenkins has always been around. Too wrapped in Rex she has never really noticed him before. He has never been loud or known to have the girls hanging all over him. He is a mystery. A chance encounter brings him to her rescue not once but twice.

  The Desert Ghosts Motorcycle Club are in town and bring their own brand of chaos right to Tessie’s door. Forced into her day to day life, Shooter is doing everything he can to shelter and protect her as lines are crossed and a war between two clubs begins.

  Secrets revealed putting two brothers in the Hellions Motorcycle Club at a serious crossroads in their lives.

  This is not a ride for pleasure. This is not a ride for safety. This is not a ride for love. This is a ride for endurance. Mercy has never once shined her grace down for these two, but in the midst of the danger and lies can they learn to rely on one another and ride it out together

  Excerpt:

  ~Shooter~

  Damn him! Brother or not, right now, I want to kick his ass. I swear I heard him speaking to someone else as I answered the phone, “Suck it harder, bitch.” Instead of dropping the barfly, he calls me to pick up his woman off the side of the road. Only Tessie isn’t his ol’ lady; she’s just his back up pussy; the pussy he doesn’t want to hold onto yet won’t let go of, either.

  Tessie is beautiful. She deserves so much better than Rex or any man the likes of us. She’s petite, maybe five-feet-four, with dark brown hair and brown eyes that dance when she smiles. Her perky breasts are what most may consider small, but they fit her body perfectly. She has a round ass, but not overly large, just enough to really grip as she rides you. With Tessie, though, it’s more than that. She is genuine, caring, and sweet. Loyal to a fault sometimes, she puts up with a lot of shit, not only from our club, but all the guys going into the bar.

  I won’t lie to myself; I have watched her for years with Rex, envious as hell. Tessie accepts him as he is, whatever he gives her. I have never met a woman who can easily understand and take a man truly at face value the way Tessie does, not only with Rex, but all of us.

  I have been a patched member of the Catawba Hellions MC for five years now. My boss, Ryder, introduced me to the club after he patched in with the Haywood’s charter. His wife Dina’s father was an original before he passed away tragically in a car accident years ago.

  I make the almost hour commute daily to work at Ryder’s Restorations in Charlotte. Most days, I paint cars for him. Occasionally, I step in on some fabrication, but it’s rare. The pay is good, business is good, and the guys at the shop are good. I could relocate to a place closer to work, but I don’t want to be in the city. I like being close to my club and not having neighbors close by. This life is simple and calm compared to what I have seen in my past.

  I am going through the routine of hooking up Tessie’s car to the wrecker. My buddy here in Catawba has a towing and recovery business. He said he would come get her, but I couldn’t do that to Tessie. She’s a single mom, by herself on an old road in the middle of nowhere, and it is beyond late. A familiar face might make things a little better, especially since I don’t know how disappointed she is over Rex not coming personally.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I see she’s watching me.

  “Need help?” she asks, sticking her hands in her jean pockets.

  “Nah, baby, I got it. Go ahead and get in. I’ll be a few minutes, and then we’ll get you home.”

  She nods at me before proceeding to get in the truck. The 1993 silver Honda Civic she has been driving certainly has seen better days. Once we get this to the shop, I’m going to give it a complete over-haul. She has a kid to get home to.

  Jobs here are few and far between. The bar is really the only place she could go right now without leaving her mom behind to work in the city. It’s a small town, people talk, and Tessie hasn’t had an easy life.

  With the car secure, I climb in behind the wheel to tow it back to my place. Looking over to the passenger seat, I see she has fallen asleep against the door already. Reaching over, I buckle her in, and she startles and wakes.

  “Shooter, thank you.”

  “Anytime, baby. You need me to take you to your mom’s or your place?” I ask, wondering if she needs to pick up her son.

  “My house, please. Mom didn’t want me to wake Axel.”

  The exhaustion is written on her face, but more than that there is loneliness in her eyes. I don’t know why, yet I feel the need to apologize that it’s me that came to get her.

  “I’m sorry Rex couldn’t make it.”

  “I’m not,” she says, gazing out the window into the dark night.

  How do I respond to that? Rather than involve myself in another man’s business, I stay quiet. Her phone rings from her purse saving me from continuing our conversation.

  “What, Rex?” she answers with a dull tone. There is a pause for him to speak. “Yes, Shooter came. I’m on my way home.” Her brows draw together in frustration, but her voice remains impassive. “No, you can’t come over tonight.” She sighs deeply. “Rex, I told you, no more.” Another pause. “You couldn’t come get me because you were doing who knows what to some barfly. I’m not stupid. Rex, I told you, I’m done. The fact that you want to come over tonight shows the complete lack of respect you have for me. We’re over and have been for years. Hell, we weren’t actually ever officially together, so there is nothing to be over.”

  Her voice never raises, never sharpens. She is calm, cool, and detached as she continues after allowing Rex to reply. “We’re nothing more than friends. Move on, Rex. I’m going to. Goodnight.” And with that, she swipes her thumb across the screen to end the call.

  She lightly bangs her head against the window as we pull up to her house where she starts to unbuckle. Quickly, I reach in my back pocket and get my business card out of my wallet.

  “Look, Tessie, if you need anything, I don’t care the time, call.”

  When she looks at the card then up to me, a slight smile crosses her face. “Andy ‘Shooter’ Jenkins. You look like an Andy.”

  “What?”

  “In all the years you’ve been coming to the bar, I’ve only know you as ‘Shooter’ and ‘Jenkins,’ never Andy. You look like an Andy.”

  Lights To My Siren

  By

  Lani Lynn Vale

  Copyright ©2014 Lani Lynn Vale

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

  in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  You’re The Lights...

  Sebastian had one rule.

  No women on the back of his bike. Period.

  The one time he broke that rule, he killed the woman that was carrying his child.

  Then comes Baylee Roberts. She makes Sebastian want to break every single rule he’d ever implemented. Hell, but she even makes him consider that dreaded H word. A helmet.

  To My...

  Baylee Roberts innocently walked into her bathroom never expecting that she’d find a man in there. It is her bathroom after all, and she lives alone.

  From the instant he placed his hat on her head to protect her from the
sun, Baylee’s mind becomes filled with thoughts of a certain biker.

  She really shouldn't go there. There’s no telling what kind of dangerous things he does for The Dixie Wardens MC.

  Siren...

  Nothing is ever as easy as it should be. Their relationship’s one of them.

  Baylee’s brother is a cop. Baylee’s father is a cop. Which inevitably means that Baylee’s going to have certain hang-ups about being with a man like himself.

  Sebastian has a lot on his plate with his busy job as a firefighter, a single father, and the vice president of The Dixie Wardens MC.

  Not enough, though, to keep him away from Baylee.

  When a series of arsons rattle their hometown and puts Sebastian’s life on the line, Baylee finally realizes the only fire Sebastian can’t put out is the one inside her heart.

  Excerpt:

  Baylee

  With one hand, I lined the tip of my screw gun with the notched head of the screw. With the other, I pushed down while depressing the button. A movement out of the corner of my eye had me looking up in time to see the man a few yards down taking a picture of me.

  Flustered, I turned back to my screwing, making a mental note to let my brother know sooner rather than later.

  As usual, my coordination and lack of attention fucked me over, and instead of pushing down on the screw, the screw slipped. The head of the drill bit slammed down into my finger, shooting a burst of pain through my body.

  Although I’d managed to pull back, the puncture still hit deep enough that blood started to pour from my finger. “Goddammit. Motherfucking bitch of a whore’s son.”