Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 63608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Smoke a little smoke, drink a little drink, and live life one ride to the next.
Freedom Falls, Alabama is either the safest place to live or the most dangerous, depending on one’s view of the Kings of Anarchy MC.
Ledger “Riot” Masters is as bold, broody, and rough around the edges as they come. He has one Kings of Anarchy MC. If it isn’t for the club, about the club, or within the club, he has no energy for it.
Kelly Ringle is a small-town girl enjoying every day to its fullest. She isn’t ready for anything serious. Good thing Riot understands this and they have an agreement that fits both of their lifestyles.
Tragedy strikes, her memories are gone, including every touch she shared with Riot. Some things aren’t treasured until they are gone. He sees clearly what he wants now, and it’s a life with her. If only he can make her see what they had was good, but what he’s willing to give her in the future is even better.
The problem, her accident is anything but an accident. The Kings are determined to find out who is behind it before Kelly loses more than memories. The threat is present. No one wants her to lose her life, most especially Riot.
Passion is one thing, love is another, but the loyalty to endure the good and bad together is what makes forever work. The Kings of Anarchy rally together behind Riot to show Kelly what family is all about
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Kelly
Riot’s mouth is on my throat, hot and possessive, and God help me, I melt for him every single time.
The dim light of my apartment flickers from the hallway lamp, casting shadows across his shoulders as he pins me gently—yes, gently, as if he’s terrified of pushing too far—against the wall. His hands bracket my hips, warm and rough, sliding up my sides like he already knows the way to unravel me. Because he does.
“Kelly…” he murmurs, voice low and sinful, his breath brushing my ear.
My fingers lace around the back of his head, tugging him closer. It’s instinct now, muscle memory, a gravitational pull I pretend I don’t understand. He kisses me like he’s starving. Like he hasn’t had his mouth on me every chance he gets.
The heat between us sparks fast, too fast, the kind that should terrify me, but instead makes my knees go weak. I feel myself arch into him, feel the quiet growl he gives back. The promise in it. The warning of the intensity yet to come.
This—whatever this is between us—always burns bright, always feels like the beginning of something neither of us will admit out loud because it might just fizzle out if we accept it.
That’s why I have to say it.
I drag my mouth away from his, breathing hard, my heart slamming against my ribs. His forehead rests against mine, his breath ragged, his hands still gripping me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go.
“Riot…” I whisper, swallowing the emotion trying to rise. “Don’t fall in love with me,” I remind him like we haven’t been doing this same dance for months.
His eyes open slowly, dark and unreadable. There’s a flicker—hurt, surprise, something warmer—before he masks it with his familiar broody calm.
“We said we were keepin’ it simple,” he mutters, brushing his thumb over my hip. “I remember.”
“No strings,” I say, trying to sound stronger than I feel. “Just… fun.” It’s more of a reminder to myself, but I’ll never tell him this.
He pauses.
Just a beat.
His jaw ticks.
But he nods. “Fun,” he repeats, though the word sounds like it tastes wrong on his tongue.
He lifts me easily, carrying me toward the bedroom with that slow, controlled confidence that always makes my stomach flip. My legs wrap around him automatically, a soft gasp escaping me when his body presses to mine.
“Long as we’re clear,” he says, voice low and rough as he lays me back on the bed. “This is what we agreed.”
I give him a smile that feels thinner than I want it to. “Good,” I lie, because it’s safer that way. “We’re on the same page.”
He studies me for a second too long, like he’s searching for something I’m not ready to give. Something I’m terrified he’ll see. Then he kisses me again, slow at first, deepening until the world goes warm and blurry and beautifully uncomplicated.
His hands slide over me, steady, tender in a way I crave. He moves against me like he knows every thought I haven’t said, every place I need him most. And as our breaths tangle and the room fades around us, I almost forget the rule I insisted on.
Almost.
Because the way he says my name?
The way he touches me like it means something?
The way my heart stumbles in my chest?
If either of us falls first, it’s going to hurt.
So I close my eyes, hold onto the heat, the closeness, the illusion of safety.
Just fun.
Just once more tonight.
Just us.
Not love.
Definitely not love.
No emotions, not even fondness. Physical connection.
Release.
That is what I’m holding onto.
Even if—somewhere deep down—I already know I’m lying.
As he enters me, his thick shaft stretching me in the most amazing way possible, I have to get my head and heart out of this. My body takes over, desire, want, need even taking over as all thoughts of how good this is and how much better it might be if I dared to let it go away as my body climbs higher and higher with every thrust.
* * *
Riot
Three Days Later
Kelly tastes like sugar and feels like trouble in my hands. Familiar and unique at the same time. Then again, this is our song and dance. The one we repeat regularly.
Her back hits the wall with a soft thud, her soft little gasp punching straight through my chest. I’ve had her like this more times than I should admit—pressed between my body and something solid, nowhere for her to go but closer—but it never hits my gut any less.
Every time feels like a first time. When has it ever been like this for me?
Never.
Her fingers curl into the leather of my cut, tugging me down to her. She kisses like she does everything else in life—full send, no hesitation, no halfway. Her mouth opens, warm and sweet, and for a second I forget who the hell I am.