Jerry's Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 6) (38 page)

They scrambled up the stairs and made out in the elevator until the door opened on his floor. Inside the apartment, it was cool and dark, like a cocoon. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, her giggles hitting him in the groin.

When he stripped down to his boxers, he slowly undressed her, her smoldering gaze pulling him in like it did every time. Bending down, he kissed her deeply then massaged her tits. God, he loved them; they fit into his hands perfectly, and they were so damn soft and luscious. If he could only touch one thing on her body beside her sweet lips, it’d be her tits. And the way she moaned when he licked her nipples to marble-hard beads hit him in the cock every time.

“I love you, honey,” she gushed as he nipped the underside of her tits.

“I love you, babe.” And he’d never stop loving her. She was the blood in his veins and the air he breathed—she was his everything.

His hands and mouth explored every part of her, connecting them through touch and passion. Then he trailed his tongue down her velvety skin until he settled between her legs. He sniffed deeply, breathing in the aroma of her arousal. As she whimpered, writhed, and gasped, he brought her to higher levels of ecstasy than he ever had before. With one hard roll of his hips, he entered her wet heat. He thrust in and out as they clung to each other, fused together by their raw passion and lust, never wanting to let go. She screamed when he stiffened then released his thick streams into her clinging core, and he collapsed on top of her, loving the way she smelled after coming.

Jerry rolled off and drew her close to him, nestling her under his arm. They lay in the dim-lit room, the AC gently blowing over their sated bodies. In that moment, Jerry knew he’d finally found the calm to the storm that had been brewing his whole life.

It’d been simple. He loved her, and she loved him.

And they were never letting go.

The End

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I have so many people to thank who have made my writing endeavors a reality. It is the support, hard work, laughs, and love of reading that have made my dreams come true.

Thank you
to my amazing Personal Assistant Amanda Faulkner who keeps me sane with all the social media, ideas, and know how in running the non-writing part smoothly. So happy YOU are on my team!

Thank you
to my editor, Kristin, for all your insightful edits, excitement with the Insurgents MC series, and encouragement during the writing and editing process. I truly value your editorial eyes and suggestions as well as the time you’ve spent with the series. You’re the best!

Thank you
to my wonderful beta readers, Kolleen, Paula, Jessica, and Barb—my final-eyes reader. Your enthusiasm for the Insurgents Motorcycle Club series has pushed me to strive and set the bar higher with each book. Your dedication is amazing!

Thank you
to my proofreader, Amber, whose last set of eyes before the last once over I do, is invaluable. I appreciate the time and attention to detail you always give to each book.

Thank you
to the bloggers for your support in reading my book, sharing it, reviewing it, and getting my name out there. I so appreciate all your efforts.

Thank you
to Carrie from Cheeky Covers. You put up with numerous revisions, especially the color of Kylie’s fingernails and the tattoos until I said, “Yes, that’s the cover!” Your patience is amazing. You totally rock. I love your artistic vision.

Thank you
to the readers who support the Insurgents MC series. You have made the hours of typing on the computer and the frustrations that come with the territory of writing books so worth it. You make it possible for writers to write because without you reading the books, we wouldn’t exist. Thank you, thank you!

Dear Readers,

Thank you for reading my book. I hope you enjoyed the sixth book in the Insurgents MC series as much as I enjoyed writing Kylie and Jerry’s story. This rough motorcycle club has a lot more to say, so I hope you will look for the upcoming books in the series. Romance makes life so much more colorful, and a rough, sexy bad boy makes life a whole lot more interesting.

If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. I read all of them and appreciate the time taken out of busy schedules to do that.

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Happy Reading,

Chiah

Book 7 in the Insurgents MC Series

Coming August 23, 2016

Throttle, Road Captain of the Insurgents Motorcycle Club, likes his women willing, stacked, and no strings attached.
His life and needs are simple: riding his Harley, bedding as many women as can fit in his bed, and scorching his throat with whiskey.

The tall, rugged outlaw is a magnet for women who love life on the wild and dangerous side. They know not to expect anything from the tattooed biker but sheer pleasure.

Life couldn’t be better.

Until he meets Kimber. The black-haired mechanic at Hawk’s bike shop. What the f@#k? In his world, the only thing a woman should do on a Harley is spread her pretty legs wide.

She is sassy-mouthed, aggravating, and not his type at all. And he doesn’t need any woman—let alone a chick in mechanic coveralls—messing with his head.

It’s a shame all he can think about is doing nasty things to her on his motorcycle.

Kimber Descourt has had to fight to be accepted in a man’s world, and she is not a quitter.
Always attracted to the bad boy biker, she has had her share of unfaithful, jerky boyfriends. Swearing off all bikers since her last boyfriend made her his punching bag, she’s content with working on Harleys, taking a few business classes, and being blissfully alone.

Then she meets Throttle.

He’s a cocky, chauvinistic bastard. Oh yeah… he’s also incredibly handsome, built, and sexy as all hell. He’s exactly her type. She should run far away from him, but her body wants him in the worst way.

They say opposites attract, but when a hardened biker and a tough free-spirit ignite, their world combusts. Will their differences bring them together or pull them apart?

In the midst of Throttle and Kimber’s tug of war, a Peeping Tom has been creeping around Pinewood Springs watching ladies behind the shadows of the night. He spots Kimber Descourt and is drawn to her. And he’s beginning to grow bored of just watching….

Can Kimber put her pride aside and ask for Throttle’s help? Is Throttle ready to let the feisty mechanic melt his icy heart?

The Insurgents MC series are standalone romance novels. This is Throttle and Kimber’s love story. This book contains violence, sexual assault (not graphic), strong language, and steamy/graphic sexual scenes. It describes the life and actions of an outlaw motorcycle club. If any of these issues offend you, please do not read the book. HEA. No cliffhangers! The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.

Throttle’s Seduction

Note: This short excerpt is a ROUGH DRAFT. I am still writing the story about this bad boy. It has only been self-edited in a rudimentary way. I share it with you to give you a bit of an insight into Throttle’s Seduction.

A
nnie Loftis and
her parents arrived home from spending a lovely evening in Clermont Park listening to the free concert and watching the sky light up from the fireworks display. It was a perfect August night: clear sky with thousands of twinkling stars, a light, cool breeze carrying a subtle whiff of jasmine, and crickets chirping in the trees and shrubbery.

When they entered their home, eighteen-year old Annie rushed to her room to check out her emails and chat with her friends on facebook. She’d graduated from high school two months before, and she’d decided to work for a year before heading out to college. Happy that her two best friends decided the same thing, she looked forward to a year of hanging out, no studying, and earning more money than her after school jobs had while she’d been in high school.

Her parents, Julia and Kurt, had long gone to bed by the time Annie turned off her computer. Slipping off her cotton top, she unfastened her bra. The man, hidden by the shadows and the bushes sucked his breath in sharply. Although her curtains were pulled, her silhouette danced about like a shadow puppet on a rice paper screen. Her young, pert breasts were outlined perfectly, and the man held his breath, his pants growing tighter, as he watched her slip on her nightgown then turn off the light.

He stood there for a long time, watching and waiting. Waiting until the cul-de-sac fell asleep, waiting for the pounding in his ears to stop, waiting for his chance to make his move. And when the sliver of moon lit a path to Annie’s opened window, he crept like a lion on the prowl, his sneakers silent on the lush grass. The gleam of the blade from his pocket knife flashed briefly before he cut the window screen.

He’d been watching her for over a week, getting to know the habits of the household. He’d even sneaked in a few days before when the family had gone to a cousin’s house to celebrate a birthday. The man wanted to familiarize himself with the layout of Annie’s room. On that night, he’d taken one of her pretty, lacey bikini panties—the white ones with the baby pink bows all around. They were so sexy, he couldn’t help himself.

The intruder knew that Annie had a large hand painted trunk to the left of the window so he had to be careful to avoid it lest he wake her up. With the screen cut, he pushed himself up. He was an athletic fellow, worked out in the gym a lot and watched what he ate. In a couple of movements, he was standing in Annie’s room hearing her soft breaths as she slept. He inched closer to her double bed, her coconut scent wafting up to his nostrils. A soft smile spread over his lips; Annie was so adorable and young. She had all the innocence and idealism of youth. He’d watch her come and go with her giggling girlfriends, and it almost made him wish he was eighteen again so he could date her.

She stirred in her sleep, a small whimper escaping through her slightly parted lips. He froze. He didn’t want her to wake up, not yet, he wasn’t ready for that. Like a statute he stood, not daring to move a muscle until the deep sounds of her breath assured him she was sleeping heavily. Then he stood next to her bed, looking down at her while he reached in the pocket of his hoodie and took out a roll of duct tape. The rip of the tape bounced off the walls in the quiet room, and Annie stirred again, this time her eyes fluttering open. Bleary sleepiness was soon replaced with bugling eyes fraught with terror, but before she could cry out, he’d secured the tape firmly across her mouth. She thrashed in her bed, her arms flailing, her legs kicking, but she was no match for him. In a matter of seconds, he’d subdued her, her hands taped together as well as her feet. Small whimpers attempted to break through but the tape caught them and kept them on the surface of her lips. Wetness dampened her cheeks, and in a show of empathy, he brushed the tendrils of hair clinging to the side of her face then wiped away her tears.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered as his eyes slowly ran down the length of her, lingering at her rounded hips, then came back to her frightened brown eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

Annie tried to scoot away from him when he caressed the length of her body with his hand. It felt cool to the touch as he slid his fingers over her cotton nightgown, the one with little unicorns and half rainbows. When his fingers touched her bare thigh, she whimpered again and shook her head furiously.

“Shh, little one. You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to see your panties.” He pushed up her nightgown and gasped loudly when his gaze fell on her white bikini undies with tiny purple polka dots. “How perfectly beautiful.” Without hesitation, he reached out and touched the side of her panties, loving the way the fabric felt on his fingertips. Pushing her nightgown up further, he stopped just under her breasts. “Do you have a matching bra?”

She nodded, her gaze wide. The intruder glanced at her closed door. The urge to see her in her bra and panties was too great. He took out his pocket knife and a sting of sadness pricked his skin when he saw the fear in her eyes. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. I want you to put your bra on. I won’t touch you. I just want to see you. Okay?”

She nodded, a tear rolling down the side of her face toward her ear.

“If you try to scream or anything, I will hurt your parents. If you do as I say, you and your parents will be all right. Do you understand?”

Again she nodded. He slowly helped her sit up then he carried her over to her dresser. He cut the tape from her hands and watched as she rummaged through the first drawer. He spotted a pair of yellow checked panties and grabbed them, stuffing them in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d use them when he returned to his place, when he remembered how pretty Annie was with her perky breasts, soft hips, and in her purple polka dotted panties.

Annie pulled the matching bra out. He told her to put it on, and she turned her back and slipped it on. The man escorted her back to the bed, secured her hands again, this time above her head, and posed her while he took pictures of her in her underwear. After snapping about sixty pictures of her in so many provocative poses, he stopped and leaned against the bed. The tightness in his pants was too much. He was harder than he’d been in a long time. Stepping up his voyeurisms and visits into pretty women’s homes when they were out, had proved to be very effective.