Reaper’s Fire Read Online Joanna Wylde (Reapers MC, #6)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, Drama, Erotic, MC, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reapers MC Series by Joanna Wylde
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Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
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“All the more reason to catch her before she hears more shit.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

By the time I pulled up to Tinker’s house, it was dark. BB—one of our prospects—was just cruising by to check on her. I nodded to him as I rode past, glancing up at the house. The light was on in Tinker’s room, and I saw a flash of movement in the window.

Excellent.

Nobody answered when I rang the bell the first time. The night air was warm, the smell of flowers and distant smoke hanging in the air. I nearly tripped over an empty glass of wine abandoned on the porch.

That was her Sunday ritual.

She’d sit out there every week, drinking wine, laughing, and whispering secrets with her friend Carrie. Driving me slowly fucking crazy with lust, watching me with those eyes and licking those lips and pretending there wasn’t a damned nuclear bomb hanging between us. Even after she’d started avoiding me, she hadn’t given up her Sundays.

I made sure she always got a show, too.

Lots of work that needed doing around that building of hers, and damned if I didn’t take off my shirt every time she was out there. My cock twitched, thinking about her ass in those cute little shorts she loved so much. Not to mention the way she’d tasted . . .

Soon she’d be under me.

Raw need burned through me, building with every mile like a wildfire, and for the very first time I wondered if Pic had been right about holding off—I wasn’t feeling kind and gentle and loving.

I needed to fuck.

I needed to fuck tonight.

And yeah, it would probably scare the shit out of her, and no, at this point I just didn’t care, because she was right inside and no door was strong enough to keep me away from her. Not now that I was so close. Punching the bell again, I wondered if I’d have to kick the door in.

Then I heard the lock scrape open.

“Sorry,” she said, opening the door. “I was upstairs and . . .”

Her voice trailed off as I looked her over, not bothering to hide the need burning me alive. She wore this long, flowing silky robe thing that’d been tied tight around her waist, and her hair was up in a ponytail that’d be perfect for holding tight while I fucked her from behind.

My balls tightened, and I swallowed, staring at her nipples. That thin fabric was doing exactly jack to hide how hard they’d gotten.

“It’s a little late,” she said slowly.

“Time to talk, Tinker,” I replied, knowing I probably sounded like a fucking caveman and not giving one single shit. I pushed through the door, catching her arm and jerking her to the side so I could lock us in. Peaches. There it was. Now I just needed to figure out if her cunt tasted that way, too.

Only one way to find out.

My cock surged at the thought. Slowly, deliberately counting my steps to maintain control, I walked across the room toward a dark wooden table along the wall. Hold it together. Don’t scare her. Fuck her and make her scream.

Jesus, couldn’t decide what I wanted.

All of it.

“What’s going on?” she asked, and I heard fear in her voice. Christ, that just made me want her more. I liked the idea of hunting her, chasing her down like a doe, then banging her hard while she screamed for mercy. Those nipples were like rocks . . . She wanted me just as bad as I wanted her. Was she wet already? I could practically smell it on her.

The throbbing in my dick matched the pounding in my head.

Keep it together, moron.

Reaching back, I pulled my gun out of the back of my jeans, setting it down carefully. Then I unbuckled my belt, whipping it through the loops to free the scabbard holding my knife.

“Cooper, I think—” she started to say, but I cut her off. Couldn’t take one more damned minute of her calling me by that fucking name.

“Gage.”

I set the hunting knife beside the gun, carefully coiling my belt up next to them. Pic might’ve been right, I realized. My control was slipping. She needed a slow, careful explanation. I needed my cock buried deep in her cunt. One of these would be happening soon, and it probably wasn’t the smart one.

“Gage?” she asked hesitantly.

“My name is Gage,” I confirmed, turning and stalking toward her. Goddamn, her cheeks were all flushed. I saw fear and excitement in her eyes, and those beautiful tits of her swayed up with every breath, taunting me. The view was outstanding. At some point I should probably figure out where she kept her bras, then take my knife to each and every one of them. Those tits were works of art and they deserved better than to be covered.


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