Page 7 of Echoes of Temptation
Well, alrighty then. I’m over here trying not to shatter into a million pieces as I watch my only family drive away and he just tells me toget in?
Jerk.
Deciding I didn’t want to be close to him, I opted to sit in the backseat.
Not that he cares. He simply gets behind the wheel and pulls out of the driveway.
***King***
Fuck my life. Fuck my life very much.
Rules. I have rules for myself that I must follow no matter what.
Never accept a job when the target’s guilt isn’t fully known. And never get romantically or sexually involved with clients. During or after the job.
Madeline is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Like she said herself, there isn’t a single thing about her body that’s small. She may not like that about herself but I happen to think big women are, by far, sexier than their counterparts.
I would have to use a lot of my muscles to toss her sexy ass over my shoulders and that thought alone makes my dick hard.
I’m a big fucking man. I have to be cautious about who I fuck and how much control I allow myself to lose. My dick is a solid twelve and a half inches long. Over half the size most women can comfortably fit. I need me a big ass woman that can handle what I have to offer.
Not that their pussies are bigger, just that they have more meat to cushion my thrusts.
Images of Madeline’s ass rippling as I pound into her pussy flash in my head.
This woman will be the hardest temptation I’ve ever faced. She’s a temptation I won’t allow myself to reach for.
So, I say again, fuck my life.
Chapter Four
King
“Before we go inside, you need to know a few rules,” I tell Madeline as she exits the car.
We’re currently sitting in the parking lot of the Obsidian MC. I called Ghost before we left Madeline’s house and told him that I needed a meeting with the brothers. I want to get this job done as quickly as possible so that I can get this woman out of my life.
“This is a motorcycle club,” I tell her. “There is a hierarchy that we follow. My brother, Ghost, is the one in charge. However, you’re still under my protection. If there is a closed-door meeting that you have not been invited to, do not go inside. Do not linger near the door. Those meetings are for patched members only.”
“I know how a motorcycle club runs,” she tells me. “My best friend is the enforcer in his.”
“What club?” I ask, testing her statement.
“The Wounded Souls over in Manchester,” she says. “Dillon and I met in college and he told me that he was prospecting to become a patched member. He was a brother for several years and was recently patched in as the Enforcer. He and his wife eat, live, and breathe that club.”
“The Wounded Souls’ Enforcer is Blackhawk,” I tell her, feeling a little skeptical about her story. “He’s almost as demented as I am. How do you know about him?”
“I just told you,” she says. “We went to college together. Dillon was always a happy man. He would walk around singing for no reason whatsoever. It’s why we got along so well. Because we were both happy people.”
“Now I know you’re lying,” I tell her. “We did a deep dive search on you and not once did we see a connection to anotherclub. And Blackhawk is never fucking happy. He’s moodier than Steel.”
She looks at me with hurt in her eyes. I don’t know why she’s hurt when she’s the one lying to me.
“I don’t know who Steel is,” she says pulling out her phone. “But I don’t think I want to be your friend, anymore.”
“Good. We were never going to be friends, Madeline. I’m going to save your life so that you can get out of mine.”
She flinches and I almost feel bad.