Authors: Chiah Wilder
Tags: #Romance, #MC, #Fiction
AN INSURGENTS MC ROMANCE
Copyright © 2016 by Chiah Wilder
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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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 [email protected]#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.
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, jerk 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
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 Descourts 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 or are triggers, please do not read the book. HEA. No cliffhangers!
The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.
Previous Titles in the Series:
nnie Loftis and
her parents arrived home from spending an evening in Clermont Park listening to the free concert and watching the sky light up from the fireworks display. It was a perfect summer 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 e-mails and chat with her friends on Facebook. She’d graduated from high school a month 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 she had at her after-school jobs 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 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’s pants grew tighter as he watched her slip on her nightgown, then switch 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 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 pocketknife 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 inside the home a few days before when the family had gone to a cousin’s house to celebrate a birthday. The man had 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 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 were 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 statue he stood, not daring to move a muscle until the deep sounds of her breath assured him she was sleeping heavily. Then he moved 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, that time her eyes fluttering open. Bleary sleepiness was soon replaced with bulging 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 and 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 before coming back to her frightened brown eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.
Annie tried to scoot away from him when he caressed 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 he 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 them, loving the way the fabric felt on his fingertips. Pushing her nightgown up higher, 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 pocketknife 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’ll 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 carried her over to her dresser. Cutting the tape from her hands, he watched as she rummaged through the first drawer. He spotted a yellow checked panty and grabbed it, stuffing it in the pocket of his hoodie. He’d use it 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 undies.
Annie pulled the matching bra out. He told her to put it on, and she turned her back to do so. The man escorted her back to the bed, secured her hands again, that time above her head, and posed her while he took pictures of her in her underwear. After snapping about sixty pictures 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 proven to be very effective.
Unzipping his pants he exposed himself to Annie, who promptly squeezed her eyes shut. The man didn’t care. He didn’t need an audience; he was perfectly content to make himself come into her yellow gingham panties. After several grunts, he spilled his sperm into her undies, making sure to keep it contained. With his head thrown back and eyes closed, his body slowly returned to normal. When he opened his brown eyes, his gaze fixed on hers. He smiled widely, then pushed his limp dick into his pants and zipped them up.
Taking out his pocketknife, he approached Annie, who tried to wiggle away from him. Leaning down, he kissed her gently on the forehead. “Thank you. I appreciate what you did for me tonight.” He cut off the tape from her hands. “Wait until I go. Then you can get up and do what you have to do.”
In two long strides, he was at the window, slipping out. By the time he reached his car around the corner of the cul-de-sac, he heard Annie screaming. He hummed under his breath, switched on the ignition, and disappeared into the darkness of the night.