Stoker (Untamed Sons MC) Read Online Jessica Ames

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 37432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 187(@200wpm)___ 150(@250wpm)___ 125(@300wpm)

After getting out of prison, I’m ready to restart my life again. My brothers in the Untamed Sons Motorcycle Club welcome me back into the fold with open arms. I’m not looking for a relationship or anything serious. I want to get my life back on track first, but then Layla walks into my life and all my plans come undone.

One mindblowing night with a biker is all it’s supposed to be, but Stoker isn’t a man who will be pushed aside when he wants something. I’m not looking for anything long term. My life is complicated right now, and trouble follows me around like a lost puppy.
But when I get in too deep with a gang there’s only one person who can help me and he’s not willing to step away.




The first breath of free air I take almost chokes me. Nothing has ever tasted sweeter. I tip my head back and let the sun shine on my face, soaking it in.

Fuck, that feels so good.

I let my eyes drift back towards the place I called home for the last nine years. I never thought this day would come, but as I stare up at the high walls looming behind me, I realise I’m finally a free man.

Freedom . . .

I had no idea how much I valued it until it was snatched from me. My life was taken from me in an instant, my liberty stripped away, and I became a number, an inmate, not a person. I was forced into a routine of someone else’s making. I was forced to make friends with the right people to keep my back protected. I was forced to do terrible things to keep myself alive.

I should be celebrating my release, but what I feel is a little uncertain and a whole lot of fucking anxious. Everything feels open, exposed. It’s been so long since I was last anywhere with this much open space. It threatens to overwhelm me.

I shift in my clothes, scratching at my chest. It’s like a thousand fire ants are crawling over my skin. The denim of my jeans feels strange, coarse in a way I don’t ever remember. Before I was locked up, I wore jeans every day, but I already miss the loose-fitting jogging pants that became a part of my everyday life during my stay at Her Majesty’s pleasure.

I weave through the first row of cars, noticing there are a few models I don’t recognise. Before I got locked up, I worked in the club’s garage with Gasket and a few other brothers. I knew everything about cars then, but these ones seem foreign, strange to me.

Ignoring the pang in my chest, I peer around, looking for a familiar face, but I don’t see anyone, so I lean against a low wall that surrounds the parking area. I let the noise of the traffic from the road just beyond the prison wash over me. It’s quieter than the constant yelling from the inmates and the sound of doors slamming, keys scraping in the locks. It unsettles me in a way I didn’t expect, and I have to take a steadying gulp of air to calm my racing heart.


The sound of my name—the name given to me by the only family I’ve ever known—has my head snapping around.

It’s then I see him.

Lennox Mathews, or Nox as he goes by in the club.

He looks the same as always—shaved head and eyes that look like they’ve seen into the pits of hell. Fuck, we all have that glint in our eyes. You don’t become a member of an MC because you had a good upbringing. Each one of us came to the Untamed Sons to find something. I hadn’t expected to find prison, but it is an occupational hazard. I was charged with assault. The judge threw the fucking book at me because of my club affiliations. Ten years inside—out in nine. It hadn’t been easy, leaving my life behind, leaving my brothers and friends behind, but I’d done what I needed to for the club. Even when the pigs had offered to reduce my sentence if I gave them inside information, I hadn’t.

I could hack time inside.

I couldn’t hack being a rat.

My eyes are drawn to that leather kutte that covers Nox’s torso. I can’t see the back of it the way he’s leaning against the cage he’s standing next to, but I know what’s on it. The skull wearing a crown with angel wings coming out of it. It’s the same insignia that once sat on the back of my own kutte. I miss that piece of leather. For as long as I can remember, it’s been like a second skin, fitting me like a glove.

I glance at the VP patch on the front of his kutte, and pain cracks my chest that I wasn’t there to see him get it. I’ve known Nox a long time and I would have liked to see him making a name for himself.