Resurrection (The Lone Riders MC Series Book 3)

BOOK: Resurrection (The Lone Riders MC Series Book 3)
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Resurrection

 

 

 

Michelle Betham

 

 

 

 

The Lone Riders M/C Series – Book #3

 

 

 

Copyright © Michelle Betham 2015

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, without the prior permission of the author.

 

The story, characters and events in this book are a work of the author’s imagination, and are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to any person, places or actual events is purely coincidental.

 

 

 

 

Main background cover image iStockphoto.com

Also by Michelle Betham

 

 

Titles published through HarperImpulse (A division of HarperCollins Publishers)

 

 

Striker

 

Extra Time

 

Final Score

 

The First Christmas Without You (A HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance Novella)

 

Shirley Valentine Goes to Vegas (Due to be published September 2015)

 

 

Self-Published titles

 

 

No Matter What

 

Illusions of Love

 

See You At The Show

 

Unbreakable

 

Revolution – The Lone Riders M/C Series Book #1

 

Retribution – The Lone Riders M/C Series Book #2

 

 

 

And the romantic comedies…

 

Too Much Trouble in
Paradise

 

Bon Voyage

Biography

 

Michelle Betham writes hot, edgy, gritty romance, usually involving rock stars, sports stars, and bikers. But not usually all in the same book. Yet.

She is both self-published, and published through HarperImpulse, a division of HarperCollins Publishers.

Addicted to binge-watching TV dramas she struggles to think of a life before Netflix, loves rock music, tattoos, and Keanu Reeves. Her dream is to ride a Harley. And visit
Las Vegas
… and be able to eat any amount of chocolate without putting on weight…

She lives in
County
Durham
, north-east
England
, with her husband and West Highland Terrier.

Somewhere in the distance a train thundered by. Not enough to disturb the peace, but it had woken him anyway, pulled him back from the same dream he’d been having for weeks now.

Hauling himself up onto his elbows he took a couple of seconds to let his eyes adjust to the dim and dingy light. The smell in there wasn’t getting any better, either – a mixture of damp and something he couldn’t describe. Something he wasn’t sure he wanted to know much more about, save that it assaulted his nostrils every time he took a breath.

Reaching out he picked up his watch. He’d slept most of the day, but that wasn’t unusual. That’s what came of living in the dark – no sense of time. Limited daylight.

He looked over to the side again. A foil-wrapped parcel and a fresh bottle of water lay next to his discarded jacket. Another food drop must have happened while he’d been asleep, and for that he was grateful. Most of the time he was starving, but what little food he received on a regular basis, it was enough to keep him going.

Twisting the cap off the water he took a long drink, savouring every mouthful, thankful it was cold. The drop must’ve only happened recently.

Drawing his knees up to his chest he leaned forward, resting his forehead on his arms, closing his eyes and breathing in deep, then regretting it, because that smell made him feel sick at times. He had to get out of here, but striking too early would be a bad move. He knew that. He had to wait, until the time was right. And they’d let him know when that was. They stood to gain from this just as much as he did, and once it was over deals would be done, debts would be paid, and he’d be able to move on. Until then, all he could do was sit tight, and wait…

One

 

 

Hector Almeda never had been a patient man. That’s why his wife had left him after just six years of marriage. Why his daughter had taken every opportunity to rebel against him in the most extreme of ways. Why his friends both feared and respected him, in equal measure. Why his youngest son had fought him from the second he could talk.

‘You still think this is a good idea?’

Hector looked up, his eyes meeting the cold, steely gaze of his eldest son’s. ‘It needs to be finished, Sol. Once and for all.’

‘I thought we’d agreed to move on. I thought we’d put all this behind us.’

‘Have you forgotten what happened?’

Sol’s dark eyes held his father’s stare. ‘I’ll
never
forget what happened. But he paid the price.’

Hector looked away, turning around and walking out of the clubhouse. ‘It wasn’t enough.’

Sol followed Hector outside, grabbing the older man’s arm, swinging him around to face him. He’d never been afraid of his father. He’d never once let himself be intimidated by the self-imposed importance Hector Almeda had placed on himself. ‘If
I
can let it go, why can’t you, huh?’

‘It wasn’t
enough
, Sol. We don’t leave things like this; it’s not how it works.’

‘If
I
can say I’m done with it, if
I
can do that, then
you
should be able to do what you’ve done for the past five years and leave it alone. I don’t want any part of it. Not now. Digging all of that up again? You really want to go there?’

Hector stared down at his son’s hand gripping his upper arm. ‘You have no choice.
We
as a club have no choice. Things have escalated, Sol, and we can’t ignore that. We gave him a chance, when he came back here – we gave him a chance, but now… he’s changed the game and
we
didn’t do that, that was all on him. He became one of them, and that we can’t ignore. So you – you have no choice.’

Sol pulled his hand away, almost throwing his father’s arm down. ‘I’ve always had a choice.’

Once more Hector’s eyes met Sol’s, holding his gaze. ‘You really believe that?’

Sol let out a low, almost sinister chuckle, sliding his hands into his pockets, stepping back from Hector. ‘I’ve
always
had a choice.’

Hector watched his son walk away; watched him climb onto his bike and speed off out of the compound.

Sol had
no
choice. None of them did. Not anymore.

 

***

 

‘Three, two, one…’

The words fell like a growl from his slightly open mouth resting against her ear, and Mia couldn’t help but groan quietly as Ben’s hands gently pushed her legs a little further apart.

‘I’m going in,’ he whispered, and this time she couldn’t stop the giggles from escaping, his own low, guttural laugh merging with hers as he thrust into her, his thumb stroking her cheek, his eyes boring deep into her soul. And that’s when the mood changed – when his eyes met hers; when their bodies joined as one, fading into each other. That’s when the mood changed. When the messing about stopped and the enormity of just what it was she felt for this man engulfed her; an all-consuming, almost suffocating mess of emotions that she both hated and craved. But somewhere amongst all of that was a love she’d never felt the like of before, even though Ben Salter was a man she really should have stayed away from. Just as he should have stayed away from her. Together they were dangerous. But apart, neither of them existed.

‘Hey, come on.’ He smiled at her and she felt her stomach flip, which made her feel about sixteen again, but that was good. She needed that. She needed to feel like nothing else mattered except the two of them, and how they made each other feel. ‘Lose the sad face. Turn that frown upside down.’

She rolled her eyes, smiling back at him, her fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck as he continued to gently thrust into her. ‘How can you do this to me, huh? How can you make me feel this way?’

‘Because I’m a genius,’ he whispered, his lips touching hers, falling on to them in a long, slow, deep kiss as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his hips.

‘It’s your modesty that gets me every time, biker boy.’

He laughed again, another low, languid laugh that turned her insides into molten lava, a heat to match flooding her body as he gave one final thrust, spilling out inside of her in hard, forceful spurts. She closed her eyes, throwing back her head as his mouth kissed the base of her throat, his groans reverberating against her neck, an almost never-ending surge of white-hot heaven filling her up and she took it all, wanting everything. She needed it. He was like a drug she couldn’t leave alone now. A dark, dangerous, unpredictable drug that was so, so bad for her. And she was addicted.

‘We are gonna be so screwed if anyone catches us in here,’ she moaned, a wave of emptiness washing over her as she felt him withdraw.

‘I kinda like the danger.’ He smirked, putting her down and leaning into her, his hand on the wall beside her head, his breath warm on her face.

‘Danger?’ She yanked her skirt back down over her hips, throwing him a wry smile. ‘I would have thought this kind of shit didn’t even figure on your danger radar.’

Ben shrugged, reaching out to nudge a strand of dark hair from her eyes. ‘Fucking the club president’s sister-in-law-to-be, in the chapel, when he’s just yards away outside enjoying a beer? I’d call that pretty dangerous.’

Mia flung her arms up above her head, a lazy smile still on her face as her eyes bored into his, his fingers sliding between hers, their mouths meeting in another long, soulful kiss.

‘But, yeah, danger turns me on,’ he whispered, pressing himself against her, and Mia felt a shiver run the length of her body. ‘And I
know
it makes you wet.’

She groaned quietly, gripping his fingers tight as he let go of her other hand, sliding it between her legs, touching her, teasing her.

‘Jesus, does it make you wet.’

She bit down on her lip as his other hand slipped from her grasp, sliding her skirt back up over her hips as he crouched down in front of her. And when his tongue took over where his fingers had left off she couldn’t stop a loud cry of relief from escaping. His thumbs were pulling her wider apart, his tongue probing deeper, and Mia was certain her knees were going to give way any second but she didn’t care. He’d be there to catch her, because that’s what he did.

Taking hold of her other hand she gripped her own fingers tight, her arms still raised above her head as she thrust her hips towards him, his thumbs keeping her open, letting him reach deep into her, his tongue circling her clitoris before diving back inside. It was the most incredible feeling; a crazy, hot, sexy sensation. So when the tingles intensified, and the heat started to creep up her body, causing her knees to almost buckle once again, Mia didn’t hold back as his tongue finally brought her to the kind of climax she’d only ever dreamed of before. She let the cries spill out of her, groaning long and loud as he stayed inside her, feeling her come, tasting every last drop, and he didn’t pull away until the last shudder had racked her tired body.

‘Jesus, Ben…’ she breathed, stretching out. Every muscle ached now. But that was the kind of work-out she could take day after day. ‘Where’d you learn to do shit like that?’

‘I had a pretty good teacher.’

She looked at him, narrowing her eyes slightly. ‘Oh yeah? Like who?’

‘Does it matter?’

She looked at him for a second or two longer, slowly shaking her head. ‘No. I guess it doesn’t.’

He reached down to scoop up her discarded panties. ‘You gonna put these back on?’

‘Do you want me to?’

‘Shit, no!’

She took them from him, tucking them into the back pocket of her skirt before reaching out to pull him towards her, kissing him slowly, smiling as he slid his hand up to touch her naked ass.

‘You’re killing me, baby,’ he murmured, his mouth still resting against hers.

‘Ditto, handsome.’

‘We should really get back out there, huh?’

She laid a hand against his cheek, letting her finger tips run gently over his rough beard. ‘I suppose so.’

Laying his hand over hers, Ben’s expression turned serious. ‘I promise you, Mia…’

She shook her head, pressing her fingers against his lips. ‘No, Ben. I don’t want to know. Whatever it is you think you need to tell me, you don’t. The past is the past, remember?
You
said that,
that’s
what you promised me. The past is the past. What matters now is our future.’

He smiled a slow smile, his grip on her hand tightening. ‘OK.’

She leaned forward, the kiss she gave him long and lingering. ‘OK. I’ll see you out there.’

He nodded, reluctantly letting her go, watching as she sashayed out of the room, back to the party. Back to her family. And as he leaned back against the wall, raking both hands through his messed-up hair, he couldn’t help thinking about his. And the shit he had a feeling they were about to bring to his door.

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