Cover Art by Marteeka Karland
BRISTOL – When I met Torque, I didn’t expect more than a steamy one-night stand from the sexy-as-hell biker. His bedroom eyes. His wicked smile. His sinful body. I couldn’t resist him. It was only supposed to be one time. He didn’t do repeats, and I wasn’t looking for more. Until our night together had consequences – the kind that lasts eighteen years. Torque might be phenomenal between the sheets, but I wasn’t too sure the bad boy biker was daddy material.
TORQUE – The hot blonde with the lush curves and naughty mouth had given me a wild, wicked ride. A man could drown in her seductive eyes, but I never go back for seconds, no matter how tempting Bristol might be. Then she storms back into my life with news that sends me off kilter. I hadn’t planned to keep her, but now that she’s having my kid, there’s no way I’m letting her go. She’ll be mine whether she likes it or not.
*WARNING: This book is recommended for ages 18+ due to sexual content, strong language, and darker undertones.
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Copyright ©2020 Harley Wylde
The biker at the bar had held my attention since I’d walked through the door. There was a group of bikers, all wearing the colors of the Wicked Mayhem MC. Whispers around town said they were dangerous, and many gave them a wide berth. I’d always loved the thrill of a bit of danger, or rather dangerous men. The one on the end was captivating, a stark contrast to the blond man on his right, his swarthy skin and dark hair made my fingers itch to touch him. I hadn’t seen a sexier man before, not even on the covers of books.
I held back, watching as other women approached. Each was sent on their way, and none too gently. Mr. Sexy shook off a desperate looking redhead, a sneer on his lips. All right. The direct approach wouldn’t work with this one. Either he wasn’t here for a good time, or he didn’t like clingy women. I adjusted the top of my dress, so the girls were on display, then sauntered over to the bar, being sure to press against his side. Before he could send me on my way, I leaned over and lifted my hand.
“Bartender! I need a drink.” The man shifted, his arm brushing my nipples. I turned my gaze to him, trying to look surprised. “I’m so sorry. It’s just so crowded. I didn’t mean to practically crawl into your lap.”
His gaze skimmed over me, stopping to take in the swells of my breasts. He shifted again, turning to face me a bit more. Before I could step back, he’d pulled me between his legs, my back to his chest.
“If you want his attention so badly, you could tug that dress down a little more.” His voice was deep and raspy, sending chills down my spine.
“I wanted a drink. I wasn’t offering a lap dance.”
His fingers skimmed up my thigh and toyed with the hem of my body-hugging dress. “Wearing something like this? You seem to be offering more than just that. Makes a man think maybe you’re what’s on the menu for tonight. That it, babe? Want me to lift this scrap of fabric and fuck you right here and now?”
I gasped, but it wasn’t in outrage. No, his words were setting me on fire. I’d always loved a man who could talk dirty, and I had a feeling this biker bad boy could back those words up with his actions. He didn’t seem like the type who would be shy about whipping out his dick in the middle of a crowded bar or club.
He turned us that my belly was to the bar, but I was still firmly pressed to the front of him. He slid his hand around my hip, under the edge of the bar and out of sight. I felt his fingers sliding up my inner thigh and my heart started to hammer in my chest.
“I’m betting a woman like you came here without panties on. Were you a naughty girl and came out nearly naked?” he asked.
I tipped my head back and bucked against his hand. “Why don’t you find out?”