Scorch – Smoke Series Read Online Abbi Glines

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Mafia, New Adult Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)

A world of racing horses, wealth, power, and organized crime was what Garrett Hughes had been born to lead. He thrived as the boss of the southern mafia. Women had come and gone in his life, but he had never needed any of them. Once he was given his heirs, he no longer cared about marriage. He had one family, The Family. He didn’t need anything more.

The gorgeous cocktail waitress at his private club is everything he despises. She gets by in life by her beauty, not striving for more. Just like his ex-wives. Beautiful, vain, and flighty. What kind of woman raises a kid in a camper, always picking up and moving? A selfish one. Someone who can’t be trusted.

Fawn Parker isn’t a typical mother, but having a child when she was seventeen and alone in the world, she did all she could to give her the best life possible. The one thing she has taught her daughter is to never back away from an adventure. To live life to its fullest.

The day that Garrett sees Fawn’s true character, he can’t seem to stay away. He wants to be near her and experience life through her eyes. It’s addicting and unlike anything he’s ever known.

What he didn’t expect was to have to work for her attention. He’s never been told no until Fawn does it frequently. Tossing his demands, gifts, and interest in his face. She refuses to let his money and power control her.

But instead of getting angry, he keeps coming back for more.

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


“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”

—Leo Tolstoy


Deciding to meet with The Judgment MC’s president was more of a family matter than business. Since the president, Liam Walsh, was my daughter-in-law’s father and there had been bad blood between us in the past, I felt it was time to remedy that. This would be my belated wedding gift to Blaise, my oldest son, and his wife, Madeline. It also didn’t hurt to have The Judgment as backup when needed. The more men I had in my pocket, the more power I held.

The family had never associated with MCs before, but then times were changing, and I had to learn to accept that. Our world couldn’t just exist among the elite. We had to broaden our attachments. This was a good start. I imagined my father was rolling over in his grave. But then perhaps not. Madeline’s grandfather had been his best friend. If there was an afterlife, then I would hope he’d see this as the right thing to do. For Madeline and the family.

Liam Walsh fit the biker persona with his combat boots, leather vest, tattooed arms, and ripped jeans. It had taken a lot for me to come here. To face the man who had been the cause of Madeline’s mother, Etta’s, disappearance that led to her death. His side of the story was still one I questioned, but for Madeline, I was willing to fucking try. Madeline had given me my first grandson. The heir to the Hughes place as boss among the Southern Mafia. For Cree, I could accept this.

“I’m sorry, Garrett,” Liam said as he handed me a glass of whiskey.

It wasn’t what I typically drank, but I doubted Liam could afford my preference in scotch.

“Micah was called to meet with us before we went to church. The others will have all gathered. I’ll get Micah on our way down.”

Not smirking at the way he called a meeting among his men “church” was difficult. I had always found biker clubs to be cliché. It was a dirtier, uncivilized gang of criminals. The family at least had a standard, unlike the men here. Again, I was judging them. I had to control that if this was going to work.

“This way,” Liam said to me as he headed for the door of his office.

I downed the amber liquid in the glass, then set it on the bar as I followed him into the hallway. There were doors that I knew were rooms for the higher-up members in the club. Liam walked down the hall and stopped at the third door on his right.

“FUCK, that’s it! Suck it like a good little slut,” a voice shouted inside the room.

Liam sighed and shook his head, then banged loudly on the door.

“MICAH! CHURCH NOW!” Liam yelled.

“Fuuuck!” Micah called out from inside the room. “Yeah, okay.”

Liam scowled. “Get your dick out of her goddamn mouth! We have business.”

“Fuck, baby, suck that dick … take it deep … TAKE IT! I’M COMING!”

Liam looked disgusted as he glanced back at me. “I sometimes wonder why I put up with his shit.”

“Why do you?” I asked.

If one of my men disobeyed me this way, I’d have them killed.

“I raised him,” Liam replied. “He’s like a son.”

Now, that, I could somewhat understand. He wasn’t his flesh and blood, but that wasn’t what made family. Loyalty made family.

The door swung open, and Micah was grinning while zipping up his jeans.

“Sorry, Liam. It’s hard to walk away from a blow like that.”

His gaze swung to me then, and I saw him stiffen. We’d never met officially, but like I knew who he was, I knew that he was well aware of who I was.

“Mr. Hughes,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“If you could keep your dick out of her mouth, then you’d have seen my text. And stay out of Tex’s goddamn room,” Liam said, sounding disgusted. “Now, let’s get to church.”

I followed Liam as he led me down the stairs I’d come up when I arrived. The black walls seemed all very forced. As if they were trying to be dangerous by color choices alone. The paint on a wall did not make you threatening. The willingness to end a life did. I doubted these men had much of that in them. Especially the pretty boy who would rather get his cock sucked than listen to the chain of command. But then my youngest son wasn’t much different. He, too, struggled to obey when it came to his pleasures.

“This way,” Liam said as he opened a large wooden door and stepped inside.

Leather jackets, which they all called cuts with their emblem on the back and their title patched on the front; tattoos; scarred faces; beards; cigarettes hanging out of most mouths—it all fit the description of a biker club. Except for the surprising number of younger men scattered among the others, who seemed almost too pretty for this life. I knew not to judge a man on his looks. My most dangerous man had a face that made women fucking swoon. He could have been a damn model.