One Night With Him (Bad For Me #2) Read Online Lindsey Hart

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Bad For Me Series by Lindsey Hart

Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74794 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)

Good girls are not supposed to fall for the bad guy.
Good girls are not supposed to have a one night stand with said bad guy.
And good girls are definitely not supposed to fall pregnant with the bad guy’s baby.
But I broke all the good girl rules.
My brothers are going to have my balls once they find out I slept with the enemy’s daughter.
Being undercover still meant the gang leader’s daughter was off-limits but seems like my common sense flew right out of the window when I saw her.
How was I supposed to resist her when she came to me so sweetly and offered all of herself.
It was supposed to be just a one night but seems like fate bound us to more.
And now, I had to choose…. do I protect her and betray my family or go ahead as planned and destroy hers?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



I’m up to my eyeballs in trouble in the form of two pink lines. Except this is a blue plus sign, but it still came in the form of urine, a white stick, and a prescribed amount of time, followed by a holy shit, there must be some mistake, which was also closely followed by oh my effing god, nope, it’s real. This is real. Fuckshitfuckshitfuck.

Trouble is nothing new. But the blue line is.

I can solidly blame my best friend for this one. If Cassadina hadn’t been all like, oh, this night is super boring, and that guy is too cute, so let’s have a little fun. Please get his number and see what happens. Actually, I dare you to get his number and see what happens, and if you end up sleeping with him, tell me all about it so I can live vicariously through you having hot sex with a scarred-up, tattooed, mysterious man who practically exudes alpha sexuality for a rousing good time, then I wouldn’t be sitting here in this predicament right now.

Alright, so I’m getting ahead of myself. I guess I should start at the beginning. I can’t blame Cass for that blue plus sign. She didn’t impregnate me. No, that was all Smokie Dokie.

Stupid name, I know. But that’s not his real name. At the club, everyone has nicknames. He wanted the name Smoke, but the guys all thought that was ridiculous because he didn’t smoke, and even though he’s a bartender, he hardly drank. He’s not a real member of the club, but all the guys who work for my dad in some capacity generally take on other monikers. Either they’re gifted, or they’re chosen. Anyway, he wanted Smoke, so the guys soon started calling him Smokie. He had a habit of saying okie dokie, so presto bammo, the whole Smokie Dokie name was born.

Rewind two and a half weeks ago to a Saturday night. A very boring Saturday night. When you’re the daughter of a motorcycle club’s prez, either Saturday nights can be wild and full of daring and danger, or they can be like mine. My dad isn’t a typical motorcycle club prez, and his MC club isn’t a typical MC club. As a result, I’m not usually allowed to go to any of the clubs or bars he owns. Which are, by the way, straight-up legit. Bet you didn’t see that one coming. Spoiler alert, this flashback ends with me winding up pregnant, but then, you already knew that.

So, getting to it.

It was hot. San Diego is already hot, but if you haven’t experienced San Diego in mid-July—or at any point in June, July, and August—it’s a rare treat in which only the extremely heat-resistant, borderline reptile or arachnid blooded can survive.

Cass came over for movie night. Long story short, we got bored, and she ended up convincing me to go out. The club is very high-end and public, though not many people know that my dad owns it. When we showed up, I lied to Sonny, one of the bouncers at the door, telling him that my dad said it was fine for me to go out and that we would only be staying for an hour or so. He didn’t like it, but I put on a charming smile, and so did Cass, who is megawatt beautiful, and he let us in.

The rest of my ill-fated, one-night stand of epic fucking sperm of destiny who beat the odds went like this:

“Wow, this place is banging,” Cass says above the pounding bass, glancing around through the flashing lights and the strobing colors. Her eyes cut through the crowd. “Now, to find someone to bang.”

The undulating bodies in the club create an environment that isn’t unique to any other club. It’s an experiment of humanity. I’ve always pretty much hated clubs and bars, which might be my dad’s influence. His forbidding me to go out basically ever never made me more curious about it. He let me experience his clubs a few times with his club brothers surrounding me to make sure I was okay, and I never thought it was anything special. This is one of the first times I’ve snuck in alone. Well, not alone, but without Dad and any of the brothers knowing ahead of time. I guess I find the whole thing pretty boring because what’s to like about the near-darkness, the scent of cloying, sticky bodies all sexed and liquored up, and the general stupidity of…well, too many liquored-up people?

I groan, but the sound is swallowed up like my mouth has been put on a permanent childhood game of mute. “That’s why you wanted to come out? You said you wanted to go out because you were bored.”

“Yeah. Not getting laid is boring.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you’d made your peace with taking a break from guys.”