Risky and Wild(103)

Royal could go to prison; an FBI agent could die.

Without thinking too hard about it, I move forward, raise my gun and hit the woman as hard as I can on the side of her head, right over the temple. Honestly, if she wasn't already halfway to unconsciousness because of her injuries, I doubt she'd go down. But thankfully for her, she does. Heather slumps forward with a groan, right over the comatose form of her partner.

“Jesus Christ, Pint-Size,” Royal murmurs as I drop my gun and stand up. He vaults over the couch and takes me in his hard, strong arms, wrapping me tight, pressing his lips to my hair. There's nothing in this world I want more than to let him hold me, take me home on the back of his bike, make love to me. This feeling right here, I need to capture this and keep it forever.

“You need to get your boys out of here,” I whisper instead as I put my hands against his chest and try to put some space between us. If there was ever a good time for my practical side to come racing to the rescue, now would be it. “The cops are on their way. They'll be here in minutes.”

“Fuck,” he growls, cupping the side of my face with his tattooed hand. Royal's fingers scald my skin as they slide along the side of my jaw and bury themselves in my hair. He leans down to press his forehead against mine. “We have got to stop meeting like this, sweetheart,” he says and I chuckle softly, leaning back so that our lips are mere inches apart. Warm breath feathers across my mouth.

Royal closes the gap between us and kisses me, tongue darting into my mouth in a slow, sensual claiming, a promise, a curse. He kisses me and steals my breath, my soul, right through my mouth. When he pulls back, I feel scalded and empty, desperate to be filled by him, with him.

I act like I don't give a crap and he gives me an almost-smirk. Even amidst all this violence, he's got a sense of humor.

“What happened up there?” I ask, but I think I already know. Mile Wide plus Alpha Wolves equals trouble.

Royal stands up straight, dropping his hands to my waist before he glances down at Heather Shelley's slumped form. Footsteps sound down the steps and Dober's bearded face appears, skin white, dark spots of blood visible against the brown cotton fabric of his shirt. I want to ask about Janae, about the other girls, but I can't bring myself to do it. There'll be time for that later. Just in case. Please God let her be okay.

“Cops are on the way,” Royal says without looking back at his VP. “Get the boys out of here. Make sure you take Clayton with you.”

There's a long moment there where I meet Dober's gaze and hold it.

“Yes, boss,” he says without protest, drawing his eyes away from mine and heading back up the stairs.

“Don't wait until you hear sirens,” I scold Royal as he draws back, his fingers sliding along my hips. He leans down again and tries to kiss the protests right off my lips; I push him back a step. “The road up to this house is long. If you wait any longer, you won't be able to get out of here without them seeing you.”

“I love you, Pint-Size,” he tells me honestly, his voice gruff and low, his mouth set in a thin, determined line. “And I'm gonna fix this, love. I promise.”

“I love you, too, and I believe you,” I tell him, leaning up on my tiptoes for one last kiss. “I've got a gun and a full magazine I found in Agent Garza's pocket. I'll be okay. Now go. I'll call you as soon as I get a chance.”

Royal nods and turns, his mud splattered jeans the last things I see as he moves up the steps, pausing just once to look back at me. Despite the bodies, the blood, the hell our lives have become, he smiles slightly and I smile back.

Less than three minutes after Royal walks out of that door, I hear the sirens.

I glance down at the FBI agent I just conked on the head. Hopefully, she doesn't remember a thing, but if she does … I can handle it.

I look up at the door as I hear the heavy pound of feet and take a deep breath.

My name is Lyric Lenore Rentz; I've got a law degree from Stanford; I survived being the daughter of the mayor; I fell in love with an outlaw.

I can handle anything.



TO BE CONTINUED IN BOOK #3: SAVAGE AND RACY





LIMITED TIME ONLY: a full copy of the first book in the series, Raw and Dirty, is included here!





DESCRIPTION



Make nice with the President of the Alpha Wolves Motorcycle Club.



Yeah right.



It was what my job description called for—I just never realized exactly how nice I needed to be.

I certainly never expected to find myself twisted up and tangled in the raw, dirty world of an outlaw motorcycle club … or in the sexy, tattooed hands of the man in charge.



Royal McBride is a jerk—but a jerk with a swoon worthy accent, a big bike, and big … well, other things.