Not a Role Model (Battle Crows MC #4) Read Online Lani Lynn Vale

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Battle Crows MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 66652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
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“I’ve wanted you on your knees, ass in the air,” he drawled. “So long that I’ve completely lost count of all the fantasies that play in my head. I have a feeling, though, that this is about to become one of ‘those’ memories that sustain me when you’re too busy to give me what I want.”

I would’ve laughed, but the head of his cock was nudging my entrance.

Shortly after that, he was pushing inside, one delicious inch at a time, until I was so full that I felt like I was about to explode.

“Jesus,” he whispered. “Had you four times yesterday, and it feels like I didn’t change your V-card status at all.”

I wiggled my ass, taking him in as much as I could.

“Will you move along, please?” I begged.

He laughed, and then he moved along.

As in, he gave me a screaming, throat’s gonna hurt in the morning, kind of orgasm.

An orgasm that he followed right behind with his own.

As we went to bed sometime later, I realized that whatever this was with Tide was turning into something I wasn’t sure if I could handle.

• • •

“Come on.” I poked him in the ribs. “You can drive me to Quitman and watch my sister—and your nieces—play soccer.”

“I don’t like watching them play soccer,” he grumbled. “They’re boring.”

I snorted and got up, pulling the comforter with me.

He hissed out a breath and grumbled, burying his head farther into the pillow, “You’re such a bitch.”

I grinned and flipped the lights on as I walked past it into his bathroom.

After taking care of my most pressing duties, I headed for the window to throw the curtains open.

Sunlight poured in, and I grinned when I saw the cat on the edge of the porch staring at Ricky Bobby.

Ricky Bobby was staring back, obviously unhappy to have the attention of the cat.

“I think we found the solution to the awful racket,” I said as I stared at the two animals.

As soon as Ricky Bobby would open his mouth to begin to bark, the cat would ruffle his tail hair and go up in the quintessential cat arch, letting the dog know without words or sound that he didn’t like what the dog was about to do.

The dog would promptly shut his mouth.

“What?” Tide asked, sounding more muffled than before.

I looked away from the sight in front of me to the man behind me.

He’d moved so that his head was now under the pillow instead of on top of it.

“What’s the name of your cat?” I asked.

“Asshole.” He paused. “Or cat. Depending on if he’s being an asshole today or not.”

I would not laugh. I would not laugh.

“And what’s his name today?” I wondered.

“Seeing as he’s not pissed me off yet by dipping his tail in my coffee or knocking it off the counter or the porch railing, he’s a cat,” he answered.

I allowed my gaze to travel up and down the length of his back, my eyes taking in all the prime man flesh there before stopping at the pair of boxer briefs that cupped his firm backside.

“Are you getting up?” I asked, wondering if I could smack his ass really hard and get out the door before he could catch me.

There was only one way to know…

I crept toward him when he refused to answer, hauled my hand back, and slapped his ass so solidly that my hand burned.

Then I started running.

I made it out the door before he could catch me, but only barely.

I turned around and laughed at him, flipping him off as I went.

“The neighbors are watching you,” he grumbled, eyes narrowed, as he came to a stop at the doorway.

I looked over to see the two elderly couples that lived next door to each other across the street staring at us while they spoke over their white picket fences.

I waved, then looked back at Tide tauntingly.

“What’s wrong, Roll Tide?” I teased. “Don’t want them looking at what’s not yours?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re mine, whether you think you are or not.”

I scoffed.

Then I fled.

“That’s not obvious at all,” my roommate called as I passed, coffee in one hand, and water hose in the other, as she watered the begonias.

I flipped her off as I dashed inside.

She laughed as I passed, and I hustled to my room to get my FC Dallas shirt pulled on, as well as a pair of booty shorts.

Usually, I wouldn’t wear the particular shorts to a soccer game, but it was hot as balls out today, with a high of ninety, and if I was going to be outside, I was going to be comfortable.

At least, that’s what I thought.

I’d fully intended to wear the shorts. Until I was told not to.

“I texted my sister to bring us chairs.” The dark timbre of Tide’s voice sounded from beside me.


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