Claiming What’s His (Savage Brothers Second Generation #5) Read Online Jordan Marie

Categories Genre: Biker, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Savage Brothers Second Generation Series by Jordan Marie
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
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“Does that mean you’re banning me from the diner? Good customers are hard to find, Billie. I’ll take the special.”

“They aren’t that hard to find here, but I won’t do that unless you screw up,” she huffs, dismissing me and walking away to put in my order. I shake my head as I watch her go.

I like Billie. I even like that she’s protective over her granddaughter. Shelby actually reminds me of her—although our interaction has been limited. I’m wondering if she has as much fire as her grandmother and fuck, if I’m not hoping she does.

Knowing Shelby has had a rough go at some point makes me wonder if that’s why she seemed closed off when we talked. I should do as Billie asks, but the truth is that I have no intention of staying away, even if the old woman is demanding it. Shelby is like an itch I can’t scratch. She’s under my skin enough to drive me crazy—and she has no idea.

I have to have her.

Chapter 5

Shelby

Checking the clock, I realize it’s almost midnight. I was supposed to be off at ten, but with paperwork and closing out, it has taken longer than usual. My feet are aching, my bones hurt, and I’m dog tired. I’m ready to get home. I need a hot shower, so I don’t smell like antiseptic wipes anymore. There’s only so much of that smell I can take. I worked a double shift when one of the other nurses had a family emergency. Even loving my job, I’m ready to get out of here.

Walking into the lobby, I’m just about to head to the elevators when I notice a man standing there. The same man I’ve been thinking about for weeks—even though I know I shouldn’t. King pushes his tall frame out of the chair fluidly, sauntering over.

He prowls straight toward me. Sweet Jesus, there’s no way one man should be that hot. His white T-shirt is stretched tight over his muscular body, contrasting to his dark skin. I bite my lip to keep from whimpering when my eyes track the way his hips move as he’s walking. I force myself to move my attention back to his face, his beautiful, ebony eyes look like liquid and are trained on me, making me want to squirm under his attention. There’s no denying I find the man attractive.

I can only manage to take shallow breaths. I shove my hands in the pockets of my scrub shirt, feeling too exposed. He grins and I can feel my nipples harden. I realize that I’ve caused my chest to push out and draw his attention. I quickly bring my hands up to cross them over my chest. He smiles wider and I find myself unable to look away from him.

“Your friend isn’t in the hospital any longer,” I call out, hoping my words will somehow magically make him turn around and leave.

“I know,” he says, still smiling. “I’m here to see you.”

Shit.

“Why?” I ask confused.

His stare is heavy, feeding my nervousness. “I wanted to spend some time with you.”

I glance at my watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

King shrugs. “I’ve been here awhile. Still, you’re more than worth the wait.”

My traitorous heart flips at his words. Ugh it’s a line Shelby, keep it together! This guy is dangerous. I swore off bikers. No bikers! Mason was one too many.

“You need to leave,” I tell him, trying to keep my features stoic. “It’s too late for this conversation. I’m worn out.”

“That’s a good idea,” he says.

“It is?” I ask, walking into the open staff elevator.

I don’t know if I want him to go or stay—my brain is warring with itself.

“Yeah. We can have it over breakfast in the morning after we get some rest.”

“I’m sleeping in tomorrow. So sorry, no breakfast date.”

Instead of taking my refusal for what it is, he follows me into the elevator. The staff elevators always feel cramped, but they seem even smaller with him standing next to me, sucking up all my air and my good sense

“You’re not supposed to be in these elevators, you don’t work here,” I point out.

“No, but my woman does,” he says, watching as the doors start to close.

“Say what?” I ask, staring at him with wide eyes. He has a woman who works here?

“My woman works here,” he repeats, nonchalantly, then gives me a not-so-subtle wink that says he means his woman as in me.

The metal door closes with a heavy thud and my heart frantically beats inside my chest. In an instant he’s right in front of me, caging me in, pinning me against the wall of the elevator. It comes to a shaky halt when he pulls the stop button, barely taking his dark, inky eyes off me.

I should be scared, but my heart is galloping like a race horse for an entirely different reason. It’s not fear coursing through my veins—not even close.


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