Virgin – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Virgin – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:56:22 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=7.1.2 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Virgin – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Ghost (Black Crowns MC #3) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.books2020.com/ghost-black-crowns-mc-3-read-online-fiona-davenport Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:56:22 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/ghost-black-crowns-mc-3-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Black Crowns MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58752 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)

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Gavin “Ghost” Danner smiled through work that made other men flinch. The former SEAL handled every threat with a fuse for the Black Crowns MC. Until Tamsin Bellamy glared at him, and he decided she was his.

Tamsin was used to being underestimated, so she was stunned when the massive biker respected her command after a fireworks display went horribly wrong. Then inventory discrepancies were discovered, and anyone putting Tamsin in the blast radius was going to pay a steep price

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

1

TAMSIN

The minutes were ticking down to the fireworks display, so there was no time to spare as I walked through the launch area to verify every detail was exactly as it should be. This was normal for me. The displays my family’s company dealt with contained multiple pounds of highly explosive chemical compositions that were capable of causing fatal blast injuries, so one mistake could lose us a whole lot more than our federal license.

And this veterans’ fundraiser, hosted by the Black Crowns MC, was bigger than usual.

Past the caution tape, the field had already filled in. More bodies on the safe side of the line meant less room for anybody to get sloppy on mine.

I put my boot against the nearest rack base and leaned. When it didn’t shift, I moved on.

Unused cable was still in a firing lane that was supposed to be empty by now. One of our guys walked past like he didn’t see it.

“Cable out of the lane,” I ordered. “Now.”

He glanced at the coil, then his gaze drifted over my shoulder instead, hunting for Len the way half the older crew still did when I gave an order. “I was just⁠—”

“Out.”

I waited until the lane was clean before I pointed at a crate sitting six inches inside the restricted mark.

“That too. Other side of the paint.”

He muttered something under his breath as he hauled the box back where it belonged.

One of the radios attached to my belt crackled, and I half listened to the conversation between two crew members as I checked the spectator marks next. The crowd had crept close in a couple of spots, but the barricades we’d erected held them back.

Flipping to the launch diagram on my clipboard, I moved toward the racks. Cutting across the packed dirt toward the launch line, I was already counting tubes against the diagram when Len fell into step beside me.

He’d been with the company as long as I’d been alive. My childhood had been filled with shows he’d been in charge of, and he was the one who had walked me through my first inventory count.

“No need to worry,” he assured me. “I completed the final check of the launch racks and firing equipment myself.”

“I still need to⁠—”

“You’ve got a lot of ground to cover today, Tamsin.” His hand hovered near my shoulder and dropped again. “Let me handle this section.”

His tone was almost paternal, which irritated me since I was the safety coordinator for this event. At times like this, I realized he still saw me as a child playing at authority, rather than the competent woman who knew what she was doing, in part because he had a hand in teaching me.

Huffing out a breath, I reminded myself that we were at a public event, so I needed to stay professional. Otherwise, I’d prove him right.

“Thanks. Radio me if anything comes up.”

“Will do.”

I turned away from the launch line and glanced over at the nearest barrier. My heart raced when I spotted the irritatingly sexy biker leaning against it as though he didn’t have anything better to do. He’d been keeping a close eye on me ever since I arrived, and it was darn irritating. Flattering too, although I didn’t want to admit to that part.

Even if I hadn’t caught him staring, he would’ve been impossible to miss at six-three with shoulders that strained the seams of his black leather vest and a chest broad enough that his shirt was stretched taut. His hair was almost black, cut short on the sides but messy on top, and his neatly trimmed beard was the same dark color. His warm brown eyes seemed to track my every step.

If all that wasn’t enough to capture my attention, he had a large black-and-gray demonic skull inked on his throat, with red eyes, nose, and mouth that most people paused to gawk at. But I shouldn’t have been one of them because I needed to focus on my job, not some man who’d caught my eye. Even if it was completely out of the ordinary for me because I’d been too busy to worry about dating.

The fact that he kept shifting my focus away from my job made me want to throw the clipboard at his head. But I somehow managed to resist the urge. Barely.

When I moved to the temporary control station to read through the launch plan one last time, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that his boot was on the wrong side of the painted safety marker. Without looking up, I muttered, “You’re inside my exclusion line.”

“By three inches.”

My lips pressed together in a flat line before I pointed out, “Still inside.”

“Prez put me on site safety.”

“Stryker doesn’t hold the pyrotechnics license.” I finally looked up to glare at him. “Behind the line.”

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Advertisement Mac Meyers Needs Me – Tilton University Read Online Helena Hunting http://www.books2020.com/mac-meyers-needs-me-tilton-university-read-online-helena-hunting Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:56:04 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/mac-meyers-needs-me-tilton-university-read-online-helena-hunting Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, New Adult, Sports, Virgin Authors: Helena Hunting Advertisement

Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >89

From NYT Bestselling author Helena Hunting comes a fake-dating, friends to lovers, college hockey romance.

Mac Meyers.
My secret crush.
Most unattainable guy on campus.
Relentless flirt (except with me).

Being friends with the guy on campus that everyone wants comes with its own set of problems.

None of us can eat in the cafeteria without being interrupted ten times.
Well, I’ve had enough.

So the most unhinged thing comes out of my mouth: I tell them to leave my boyfriend alone.
Except Mac is not my boyfriend.
Not even close.

Until he looks at me like I have the most inspired idea.

My name is Ophelia Forrest-Hammer, and Mac Meyers wants to be my fake boyfriend.
But I wish he was my real one

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

CHAPTER 1

FEE

“Should we place bets on how long it takes Meyers to get back here?” Gage Steele leans back until he’s balanced on the legs of his chair. He, like Mac, plays for the Tilton U hockey team.

“One of these days your balance will fail you and you’ll end up breaking the chair and your head.” Brody Stiles, his teammate and roommate, shuffles his cards around and avoids making eye contact with anyone at the table. It means he has a good hand. I know all his tells.

Gage ignores Brody. “I put twenty on twenty minutes.”

“I put twenty on less than two.” I do the wave with my eyebrows—it’s one of my many skills—then toss over my shoulder, “Mac, if you’re not back here in thirty seconds I’ll play the top card in your hand, regardless of what it is!”

“Don’t you dare!” Mac Meyers, roommate to Brody and Gage, and my secret crush, shouts.

“Then stop flirting and get your ass back in your seat and play your hand, Meyers,” Chase Lovett, boyfriend to my bestie Cammie, friend and teammate to the guys, and my current favorite of the group, adds.

Cammie rolls her eyes, Enid tries not to look at Brody—she always tries not to look at Brody—and Tally raps her nails on the table while smirking in my direction. I pretend not to notice.

“Puttin’ the Hammer down, eh, Forrest-Hammer.” Mac slides into the chair next to mine.

I immediately want to die every single death because one, that was such a dad joke, but still manages to be cute coming out of his sexy, full-lipped mouth, and two, he just last-named me. Like I’m one of his teammates. Like we’re buddies.

Because we are. Friends. Pals. Buds. It’s the worst. My ego shrivels into a sad raisin.

“Some of us want to finish the game before the next millennium is over,” Enid offers for me.

“I didn’t want to be rude.” He consults his cards. “Look at you with the queen, Fee.” He tosses a king on the table. “But I can do better.”

“And I can do even better.” Chase drops an ace.

Gage huffs. Brody frowns. Tally’s gaze catches on something behind us.

Two seconds later a girl drops into Mac’s lap.

I immediately wish that Mac was less inviting.

“Macky! I knew I’d find you playing cards!”

Mac smiles his panty-melting smile at her. “Hey, Kelsey. When did you get here?”

Ugh. He even knows her name.

“Just like, ten minutes ago. How long will you be playing cards?”

“Depends on how many interruptions there are,” Gage grumbles.

I say nothing. I wish I had the guts to drop into Mac’s lap like that. I wish more that he would pull me into his lap and keep me there, and also tell me that my crush is reciprocated.

This is how it always is with Mac. He flirts with literally everyone. It doesn’t matter who it is, or if he’s even remotely interested. Kelsey isn’t the first girl to interrupt this game, and she likely won’t be the last. I can’t even blame her for the inconvenience or the slight discomfort that comes from her using him as a chair. Because when Mac Meyers’ attention is focused on you, it makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. Like everything you have to say is the most riveting, intellectual topic and all he wants is more.

No one at the table is immune to Mac’s charms. Even Chase, Gage, and Brody succumb to his wide smile, and the dimple in his right cheek, and the smooth way he operates.

Mac ignores Gage, his warm smile still aimed at Kelsey. “Why don’t I come find you when we’re done here?”

“Sure. Cool. I’ll probably be in the living room with some of the girls from cheer.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

“Okay!” She kisses him on the cheek, waves to the rest of the group, and flounces off.

“Okay, where were we?” Mac consults his cards again.

I pull a tissue from my pocket and hold it out to Mac.

“What’s that for?”

His fingers brush mine, sending a jolt of warmth traveling up my arm. What would happen to my body if I actually summoned the nerve to sit in his lap? I’d probably combust. Or melt. I picture myself reduced to a puddle on the floor at his feet, the only remaining features my eyes, nose and mouth. “Kelsey left some glitter gloss on your cheek.”

“Oh, thanks.” He swipes at it, but the gloss remains. “Am I good?”

I shake my head. “It’s still there.”

“Help me out, Fee?” He bats his pretty lashes at me and angles his cheek toward me.

My nether regions get inappropriately excited. I reclaim the tissue and our fingers connect briefly again. I prepare for an onslaught as I angle his face with two fingers and rub at the spot on his cheek. I’m touching Mac and he’s letting me, but not for any of the reasons I would like. Still, I bask in the warmth of his skin, of the heady scent of his cologne, of the light stubble against my fingertips as I linger in his personal space. By the time I’m done, he has a red spot on his cheek and I’m pretty sure my whole face is the same color.

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Advertisement Jaxson (Grumpy Men of Higher Ridge #1) Read Online Sam Crescent http://www.books2020.com/jaxson-grumpy-men-of-higher-ridge-1-read-online-sam-crescent Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:56:02 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/jaxson-grumpy-men-of-higher-ridge-1-read-online-sam-crescent Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Authors: Sam Crescent Series: Grumpy Men of Higher Ridge Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >37

Jaxson Riggs once hated everything about Higher Ridge. But after years in the big city, he’s come to appreciate the small town he grew up in—the safety, the peace, and the fact that it finally feels like home.

He’s also earned himself quite the reputation with the local women.

But there’s only one woman he truly wants.

Tillie Short.

Sweet, curvy, and kindhearted, Tillie has no one in the world but her beloved dog, Belle. And lately, Jaxson keeps finding reasons to be around her. To everyone else, he’s the town grump. With Tillie, he’s something entirely different.

Their unlikely friendship quickly becomes the best part of her life.

Until one scorching summer night changes everything.

One moment they’re friends. The next, Tillie’s no longer a virgin—and Jaxson has no intention of going back to the way things were.

He wants Tillie. Not for a night. Not as another name in his past.

He wants her as his woman. His wife. His forever.

But Jaxson’s reputation is hard to ignore, and now he has to convince Tillie of the one thing that matters most:

She was never just another woman to him

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

Chapter One

“Fuck off,” Jaxson Riggs said, as he exited Elizabeth Carly’s house. He was angry—no, scrap that, he was pissed off—that the forty-year-old mother of three had tried to seduce him. Not only that, she had even implied if he didn’t fuck her, she was going to tell the whole town he had raped her.

He was not a man to be threatened, and he refused to help the Carlys in any fucking way. They always tried to get out of paying, and Elizabeth was a horndog who fucked anything that walked. He had no idea why her husband put up with it.

The whole family was a shit show, but they had messed with the wrong man. He was not afraid of idle threats, and it probably helped that he had such a blunt and honest opinion on everyone and everything, so no one was going to believe her. However, rather than sit on his ass, he climbed into his truck and went straight to Old Man Daniels, who was also the sheriff in their small, piece-of-shit town, Higher Ridge.

Storming inside, he saw no receptionist at the front desk, but he knew where he was going, and he found Daniels on his cell phone, scrolling. The moment he entered, Daniels jumped.

“What the ever ... damn it, Jaxson, don’t you knock?”

“Where’s Lucy?” he asked, referring to the young receptionist that had taken over from Edna.

“It’s her day off,” Daniels said.

“You think that is wise?”

“Why, because of a crime spree running through Higher Ridge?” Daniels rolled his eyes. “I’ve been sheriff for thirty years, and trust me, other than potential alien invasions, I think I would be out of a job.”

“Elizabeth Carly has just threatened to accuse me of rape for not fucking her,” he said.

Daniels groaned. “Again?”

“Again?” Jaxson asked, a little confused.

“I had Rusty, the rancher, in here just the other week, telling me the exact same thing.”

“Did she follow through with it?” Jaxson asked.

“Nope, I think it is her way of attempting to blackmail you to have sex with her.” Daniels shrugged. “Duly noted.”

Jaxson sighed. “You know what she’s doing is wrong, right?”

Daniels nodded. “I’m aware of it, and the moment she tries to accuse anyone, I will deal with it. This badge is not part of a costume, you know. I take my job very seriously. There is only so much I can do.”

“What-fucking-ever.”

He hated this piece-of-shit town and had attempted to leave it many times. In fact, he did leave it, only this town was nothing compared to the outside world. He had dreams of making it as a big tattoo artist. Had his hopes set on making it large, only those had fizzled and gone to shit in less than six months.

City life was horrible. He hated to admit it, but he rather liked living in a town where everyone knew everyone, and in their own way had each other’s backs. He’d come home, and his father had paid him to go to college, where he qualified to become an electrician, then a plumber, followed by the guy they called when they needed any odd job done. He was damn good at what he did, even if he had a bad reputation.

Jaxson never minced words. He was grumpy as fuck, not that it stopped him from getting laid. He loved to fuck. And there were plenty of single women in Higher Ridge who liked to ride his cock. He had one rule, though—he never played with married women. He actually believed in the sanctity of marriage, and that was because his own parents were still very much in love.

He knew it always amazed people that Mark and Susan Riggs had given birth to a very mean, grumpy son. At least, he was with everyone else, but he adored his parents. They were good parents, and when he was a teenager, he hadn’t been easy. His father had kept him in line. There had been one point when he’d been determined to run away. He didn’t like playing by the rules, and he certainly didn’t think they applied to him. His father had found him at the Higher Ridge border, right at the sign, with a single bag packed.

“Is that it, son? You can’t handle a few rules designed to keep you safe? You think the whole world is going to put up with you breaking the rules? Go ahead, make a go of it, but remember, whatever you do out there, I can’t help you. In here, you’ve got a chance.”

The rule he’d been pissed off about was the 10:00 PM curfew. He didn’t want to be ruled by his father’s time. He wanted his own.

For a good hour or two, he sat at that border and waited, only to get up, turn around, and meet his father at the front door. He would find out a few months later that his own father had done the same to his father. It was expected.

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Advertisement Made in Love and Blood (In Love and Blood #1) Read Online Bethany-Kris http://www.books2020.com/made-in-love-and-blood-in-love-and-blood-1-read-online-bethany-kris Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:56:01 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/made-in-love-and-blood-in-love-and-blood-1-read-online-bethany-kris Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Virgin Authors: Bethany Kris Series: In Love and Blood Series by Bethany-Kris
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Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >157

Francesca Gallo grew up surrounded by violence no one names. In her world, love comes at a cost.

Salvatore Gallo never wanted to be a made man, but what one wants and what they must do are rarely the same thing. So, he made a deal with the devil that left him paying for decades—one tragedy after another.

Nico Russo's entire personality has been shaped by surviving one moment to the next. With a father who would rather he bleed than breathe, finding a way to make it through the day is business as usual.

A lie told a decade ago changed all their lives forever.

Made in Love and Blood opens a dark contemporary crime-family saga about inherited violence, what love and loyalty mean, and the terrifying truth of being fully known. Nothing stays buried forever

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

Prologue

Francesca’s favorite thing to do at parties?

Hide under tables.

There with a big cup filled with sugary something, she set herself up for a quiet evening. And there, under the freshly starched tablecloths without crinkles and stains, she could hear things.

Lots of things.

Nobody seemed to understand that she only wanted to be close to her father. It wasn’t about hearing things she shouldn’t. He was the only man in the room that made her feel safe.

There were a lot of those, too—other men. Their laughter roared harder and longer the later the evenings went on, and their opinions became louder after the wine switched to something harder.

The click-clack of familiar heels hitting marble reached Frankie before the shrill voice of her stepmother started. Just the woman’s stilettos stomping across the floor or down a flight of steps could send her running, but she couldn’t do that now.

“She’s gone off again, Sal. I am tired of this shit.”

Salvatore’s soft chuckle eased the sudden tension that had coiled itself around his daughter. They had a deal, him and her. She didn’t have to listen to Carina with him and Sissy around.

Plus, bruises made Sal angry, and Carina left a few of those. The last ones faded a while ago and none had been left since. Miss Sissy made sure of that. Frankie ended up getting a puppy out of the deal. It worked out.

“You just think it’s so funny, don’t you?” Carina hissed. “You let that little brat do whatever the hell she wants to do whenever she feels like doing it, and then when I have to look after—”

“And how often does that happen lately?” Salvatore interrupted.

“That’s not the point!”

The smooth drawl of her father sharpened instantly in a way he didn’t use with Frankie. “Could you lower your fuckin’ voice? The last thing I need is the boss hearing you run off at the mouth again. I am so goddamn tired of making excuses for you, Carina. Considering he’s the only reason why I’m in this damn mess with you, I know he’s sick of it, too.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have to raise my voice to get you to listen if you would just make that little bitch—”

Something hit the small table where Frankie hid with enough force for the glasses on top to clatter. A harsh gasp melted in with the scuff of shoes against marble. The eight-year-old could now see the heels of stilettos and the toes of leather loafers peeking beneath the tablecloth.

“She’s the only way I rile you up anymore,” Carina whispered.

There was something soft in her voice. Like the way Miss Sissy sounded when she spoke to babies and toddlers on their trips to the park. Frankie asked about it once, and the nanny called it a coo, but it didn’t sound the same now and it made her a little sick.

“Don’t start,” her father warned.

“So, we’ll get back to this later, then?”

“The one benefit of this fuckin’ sham between you and I is the later.” The shoes moved away from the table and Frankie’s bent knees relaxed. “I’ll find my daughter. You don’t go looking. Do you hear me, Carina? Capisce?”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”

“And don’t come telling me when you’re ready to leave, either. I’ll find you.”

“Mmhmm. You forget I used to live in this fucking house, Sal. I know the boss’s rules.”

“Still think they found you in a dumpster and not at the church,” Salvatore grumbled. “Makes so much more sense.”

Her stepmother must have already been too far away to hear the comment as nothing vicious returned. Her departure brought instant relief for Francesca right along with a new pain. She crossed her legs and held her tummy to keep from peeing on the spot. She only needed to peek at the now-empty cup of her favorite soda sitting to her left to know why.

Salvatore knew Frankie liked to hide at parties. He had even developed a way to call for her without it becoming obvious to others what he was doing. The low whistle of You Are My Sunshine crawled under the table and promised her safety if she just came out. But she didn’t.

The soft squeak of Salvatore’s loafers, and the whistle, inched away.

After the other voices in the room also seemed to move to another space, Francesca still sat with her legs crossed. She rocked back and forth slightly to ease the pressure down below. It didn’t help. Now she wished she had come out for her father’s whistle.

“Hey, don’t you know people are looking for you?”

Francesca didn’t know what did it—the sudden voice, the way she jerked backward when light spilled under the table, or the piercing green gaze of the boy scowling at her from where he lifted the tablecloth. Either way, there went her pee.

On the floor, soaking into the crinoline and silk of a brand-new dress, and it even got in her shoes. There was no hiding the way the liquid pooled out beyond her skirt, or the tears that instantly welled in her wide eyes.

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Advertisement Savage Truce (Heart of Crime #1) Read Online Michelle Heard http://www.books2020.com/savage-truce-heart-of-crime-1-read-online-michelle-heard Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:55:51 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/savage-truce-heart-of-crime-1-read-online-michelle-heard Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia, Suspense, Virgin Authors: Michelle Heard Series: Heart of Crime Series by Michelle Heard
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >80

From USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author Michelle Heard comes a new STANDALONE, full-length MAFIA ROMANCE novel.

I was born into Bratva royalty, but that never made me a princess. My entire life I’ve been mocked and ignored, and the only place I’ve ever felt like myself was at the theater, with a needle in my hand and beautiful fabrics around me.
That’s where I met him.
A stranger with a missing button, clear blue eyes, and a voice that made the world feel less cruel for one stolen night.
We only exchanged our first names and talked the night away over warm coffees and pastries before my life came crashing down around me.

Years later, my grandfather is dead, the Bratva is at war, and I’m imprisoned because of my family. I’m broken, bruised, and forgotten until the new pakhan comes to inspect his prisoners.
Rodian Volkov.
The man I never forgot. Only now, he isn’t a stranger with gentle hands and friendly eyes.
He’s become savage just like the rest of the men who bend the knee to him.
He’s now the monster I fear.

When he tells the Bratva he’s marrying me to bring peace, I’m too terrified to argue.
Because saying no to the pakhan is never an option

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

Songlist

Spotify

Masquerade – Euphoria, Bolshiee

I Can’t Hear It Now – Freya Ridings, Arcane, League of Legends

Wasteland – Arcane, Royal & the Serpent

The Capture – Aneta Wrzos, Ben Summer, Glenn Herwiejer, Nicholas Michael Hill

Gold Were Our Cages – Denmark + Winter

Chaos In Heart – Alex Rv Phillips

Eternity – Alex Warren, Gigi Perez

The Only Thing Left – Vincent Lima

Salvation – League of Legends, Forts

Lost – Jonathan Roy

Love Is Just A Word – Jasmine Thompson, Calum Scott

Synopsis

I was born into Bratva royalty, but that never made me a princess. My entire life I’ve been mocked and ignored, and the only place I’ve ever felt like myself was at the theater, with a needle in my hand and beautiful fabrics around me.

That’s where I met him.

A stranger with a missing button, clear blue eyes, and a voice that made the world feel less cruel for one stolen night.

We only exchanged our first names and talked the night away over warm coffees and pastries before my life came crashing down around me.

Years later, my grandfather is dead, the Bratva is at war, and I’m imprisoned because of my family. I’m broken, bruised, and forgotten until the new pakhan comes to inspect his prisoners.

Rodian Volkov.

The man I never forgot. Only now, he isn’t a stranger with gentle hands and friendly eyes.

He’s become savage just like the rest of the men who bend the knee to him.

He’s now the monster I fear.

When he tells the Bratva he’s marrying me to bring peace, I’m too terrified to argue.

Because saying no to the pakhan is never an option.

Savage Truce

Mafia / Organized Crime / Suspense Romance

STANDALONE in the HEART OF CRIME

Book 1

Author's Note:

Even though Rodian and some of the other characters made their appearances in previous stories, this book is a complete standalone.

This book contains subject matter that may be sensitive for some readers.

List of content warnings: Click here

18+ only.

Please read responsibly.

Family Tree

RODIAN VOLKOV

↓

Family Business: Pakhan of the Bratva

Father: Ruslan Volkov

Mother: Irena Volkova

Cousin: Artem Volkov

Aunt: Marina Volkova

Uncle: Reznik Volkov - Deceased

Underboss and best friend: Andrei Dragun

ANASTASIA DONOVAN

↓

Family Business: Mother – Bratva / Father – Irish Mob

Father: Kevin Donovan (Killed by Christiano in Forceful God)

Mother: Yelena Donovan (Daughter of Yegor Fedorov)

Grandfather and previous pakhan: Yegor Fedorov (An antagonist in Saved by a God)

Grandmother: Deceased

Russian surnames have masculine and feminine forms. For example, Volkov is the masculine form, while Volkova is the feminine form. These are not spelling mistakes.

Translations:

Blyadʹ – Fuck

Brat – Brother

Moy Brat – My brother

Bratishka – Little brother

Iisus Khristos – Jesus Christ

Krasivaya – Beautiful

Kusok govna – Piece of shit

Malyshka – Baby girl/Baby

Mam – Mom

Milaya – Sweetheart/Dear

Moya Krasavitsa – My beauty

Pap – Dad

Svinya – Pig

Tolstukha – Fat woman

Ty moyo vsyo – You’re my everything

CHAPTER 1

Anastasia

Rodian Volkov, 32. Anastasia Donovan, 20.

The sewing machine purrs beneath my hands, while the familiar scent of steam and starch fills the air. Watching the thread weave through the fabric gives me a sense of peacefulness I’ve never been able to find anywhere else.

My workshop, situated at the back of the theater where I’ve been employed since I graduated from school, is the only place I’m truly happy.

Well, normally it’s peaceful, but with the final performance only hours away, every rail is packed with costumes waiting for one last inspection from my boss before they’re sent backstage to the performers.

I lift my foot off the pedal and hold the shirt up to the light, checking the seam while my thoughts turn to my parents and my approaching twenty-first birthday.

A heavy sigh escapes me because in a matter of two weeks my whole life is going to change, and I’m not ready for it. Far from.

Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I saw my parents, or any of my family members for that matter. The rare times Mother has called over the years, her tone has always been clipped, making me feel like she’s doing me a favor by honoring me with a few minutes of her attention. But as for actually seeing them? Being in the same room as them? I only have a handful of vague memories of my time in Russia.

Lowering the shirt, I snip a loose thread hanging from the cuff while continuing to worry about my uncertain future.

When I turned six, my parents shipped me off. Home became one expensive boarding school after another, scattered across the UK. So, even though I’m the granddaughter of a pakhan on my mother’s side and my father is part of the Irish mob, I don’t know the first thing about Russia, the Bratva, or the mafia.

I don’t even speak Russian anymore. I knew a little when I was younger but have forgotten most of it over the years, and attending international schools has left me with a neutral English accent instead of a Russian or Irish one.

Now I’m just Anastasia Donovan. A girl who loves being a seamstress and doesn’t want to leave this little slice of heaven I’ve carved out for myself at the theater.

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Advertisement The Biker’s Guilty Pleasure (Straight to Hell MC #4) Read Online Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino http://www.books2020.com/the-bikers-guilty-pleasure-straight-to-hell-mc-4-read-online-sam-crescent-stacey-espino Wed, 23 Sep 2026 18:55:45 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/the-bikers-guilty-pleasure-straight-to-hell-mc-4-read-online-sam-crescent-stacey-espino Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Virgin Authors: Sam Crescent, Stacey Espino Series: Stacey Espino
Series: Straight to Hell MC Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)

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Grace
Bikers destroyed my family once. I swore I’d never trust another man wearing leather and a cut, no matter how kind he pretended to be. So why is the one man who gets under my skin the same one standing beside me every week at the women’s shelter, quietly proving that not all monsters look the way I expected? Reaper is everything I should hate—dangerous, ruthless, and loyal to the Straight to Hell MC above all else. But beneath the scars and deadly reputation is a man who protects women without question… and looks at me like I’m worth fighting for. Falling for him could cost me everything, but walking away might be impossible.

Reaper
I’ve spent my life making sure no woman suffers the way my mother did. My brothers know me as the club’s enforcer—the man who handles problems permanently—but Grace sees the part of me I keep buried. Too bad she hates everything I stand for. Her fire calls to the darkness inside me, and every glare she throws my way only makes me want her more. When trouble comes hunting, I’ll paint the streets red before I let anyone touch what’s mine. She can fight me, argue with me, even hate my patch… but I’ll protect her with my last breath. Because once a Straight to Hell biker claims his woman, there is no letting her go

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

Chapter One

Grace had an early shift at the bubble tea store, but she wanted to volunteer at least an hour before work. Spending time at the women’s shelter and giving back was important to her. Essential. After losing her older sister years ago, she’d been on a mission to help other young women avoid the same fate.

She was washing her hands in the small powder room by the back entry door, when she heard crying. Grace quickly dried her hands and rushed to the front of the shelter. She stopped dead in her tracks.

There was a woman on her knees in the front hallway, holding a young girl around seven years old around the waist. A huge tattooed man stood over them. She knew right away he was a biker by the leather cut. Those animals were easy to spot regardless, especially for her. Her heart began to race as she scanned the area for staff members. She was no match for a man his size, but she’d put herself between him and the woman and child if she had to.

She saw Gena coming up the hall but she was much farther away than her, so she moved in close.

“Hey! Get away from her.”

The biker cocked an eyebrow but didn’t move.

“Step back. You realize I have a panic button. If I push it, the cops will be here in two minutes.”

“I just brought them in,” he said.

Yeah, of course he did. Beat up your girlfriend and kid, then dump them at a shelter? Real manly of him. Or maybe they’d escaped him and he followed them here trying to force them back. She’d seen it too many times to count. Why else would she be scared and crying?

She hated men. And bikers were the worst.

“You’re not welcome here,” she said.

As Gena neared them, her nerves eased slightly because the shelter manager would know how to deal with this.

“Oh, Reaper, thank you so much for dropping them off for me,” Gina said.

Grace was stunned, frozen in place as she attempted to process the scene. What the heck was happening?

“No problem,” he said, in that same too-deep voice. “I’ll be by tonight to check out the alarm system.”

“You’re a godsend.”

When she looked at the woman still sobbing into her hands, she noticed the little girl was tugging on the biker’s black jeans. It made her heart rate pick up. She didn’t trust bikers and never would. He looked down at her and smiled. It actually looked warm and sincere, which wasn’t possible.

“I have some stuffies in my saddlebag out front,” he told the girl. Then he turned to Gena. “Is it okay if she comes out to pick one?”

“Of course, I’ll start registering her mom, then Grace can finish the intake.”

“What?” Grace blurted out. “You’re letting her go outside alone with him?” She bit her tongue immediately after when they turned and stared at her like she’d just grown a second head. How could she be the only one who saw a major red flag here? Many red flags.

“It’s okay, Grace,” said Gena. “This is practically Reaper’s second home. He does a lot for us. You don’t have to worry about him.” Then she walked away with the mother to the office.

The mother was still hysterical, repeatedly muttering, “He’ll find me.”

Her heart went out to the woman. That’s why it was so important to keep the shelter a safe place, a refuge. When she turned back around, he was there.

Reaper had a sly smile on his face. “You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

The heat of humiliation raced up her collar and she knew her face must be beet-red. “I’m sorry. I was just looking out for them.”

“It was cute.”

Her mouth fell agape. He may not be the enemy this moment, but she still refused to trust a biker. They were criminals and murderers. If it weren’t for bikers, she’d still have her sister. And her parents’ marriage wouldn’t have fallen apart. And they’d still be alive. She learned how grief could kill a person.

The little girl reached for his hand and he actually took it as they walked up the hall together. She was made of questions. How had she never met him if Gena seemed so familiar with him? Grace usually volunteered three days a week at the shelter.

She decided she’d made herself look enough of a fool today, so she got to work. There were several boxes of donated food in the hallway, so she started loading them into the pantry, one can at a time. She took her time, frequently glancing at the front entryway to see if the little girl made it back in safely.

When she heard the door opening, she got more focused on her task, refusing to look away from the pantry shelves. It wasn’t sound that alerted her to his presence, more a feeling. She knew he was behind her, but refused to appear affected.

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Advertisement Cipher (Black Crowns MC #2) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.books2020.com/cipher-black-crowns-mc-2-read-online-fiona-davenport Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:28:26 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/cipher-black-crowns-mc-2-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Black Crowns MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >69

Corbin “Cipher” Ralston had solid reasons to stay away from Bex Raines. She was too young for him and the sheriff's daughter, but that didn't stop the Black Crowns enforcer from wanting her with a violence that made him dangerous.

When Bex stumbles onto a conspiracy deep within her father's department, Cipher quickly gets her under his protection—and in his bed where she always belonged. Anyone who comes for what’s his is going to learn exactly why they call him Cipher

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

PROLOGUE

CIPHER

Ahead of my club president’s wedding, I had mapped every inch of the Rutledge property. I’d also done a deep dive into each guest before Stryker put a ring on his old lady’s finger. None of it demanded much conscious effort, because assessing a crowd had become as natural as breathing sometime during my first deployment.

Rebecca Raines was the only part of the evening I couldn’t reduce to useful information, because the reaction she caused in me was completely fucking unwelcome.

I’d known exactly who she was before the bride introduced us. Bex was nineteen, Jacqueline’s best friend, and Sheriff Raines’s only daughter, giving me three separate reasons to keep my hands away from her. And her father understood precisely how dangerous I could be.

Those facts should have settled the matter for a man who trusted logic. Instead, one look at her in that pale-blue maid-of-honor dress had sent enough blood into my cock to make the rest of the ceremony an exercise in controlled suffering.

The soft fabric ended above white cowgirl boots and followed a slender yet undeniably feminine body, curved in every place my hands wanted to close around. Loose honey-blond hair brushed her shoulders, catching gold beneath the strings of lights, while her hazel-green eyes seemed to shift between warm amusement and wicked curiosity depending on whether she thought she had caught me watching. Her full pink mouth made restraint even less pleasant, especially when my mind insisted on picturing those lips swollen beneath mine while I found out what sounds she made when a man stopped treating her like the sheriff’s sweet little girl.

I had spent years extracting useful intelligence from visual details, but nothing about knowing the exact shape of Bex’s ass in that dress was helping anybody survive the night.

I kept my place beside the makeshift bar, a bourbon sitting untouched between my fingers while I tracked her through the reception without moving my head enough to make it obvious. Every man who looked at her stayed in my awareness longer than he should have, and each one who made her smile produced an irrational pressure beneath my ribs that had no tactical value whatsoever. I’d convinced myself no one noticed, although Stryker glanced my way twice, looking like he was waiting for me to finish making a bad decision.

And Bex was just as aware of me, which explained why she had spent the past twenty minutes finding increasingly weak reasons to return to the bar. Her first visit had been for sparkling water, the second for a napkin she could have taken from any table, and the third because she claimed the bartender had hidden the lime wedges from her.

Each time, she stood close enough for the citrus-and-vanilla scent of her skin to reach me, gave me a warm smile, and waited as though she expected me to flirt. But I answered only what she asked and watched her walk away while my cock stayed hard enough to punish me for the decision.

A burst of laughter pulled several guests’ attention across the lawn, but mine was fixed on Bex when she stopped beside me again. She tilted her face toward mine with determination bright in her eyes and the impish curve of her lips telling me she knew exactly how closely I’d been tracking her. “You know, watching every man who asks me to dance is a lot more work than dancing with me yourself.”

“I’m not watching every man.” The lie was defensible because I was also watching the entrances, perimeter, and half the club, but the slight lift of her brows said she wasn’t interested in technicalities. My gaze dropped to the pulse at the base of her throat before moving back to her eyes, and the soft pink beginning to spread over her skin made me want to put my mouth there until the color deepened beneath my scruff. “Some of them aren’t worth monitoring.”

Her smile widened as she held out one slender hand. “Then dance with me and save yourself the trouble.”

I stared at her fingers for a second too long, imagining them tangled in my hair while I held her against a wall and dragged my mouth down her body. My restraint had already been reduced to mere avoidance, which irritated me nearly as much as the erection pressing against my zipper.

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Advertisement Roped Read Online Saffron A. Kent http://www.books2020.com/roped-read-online-saffron-a-kent Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:27:53 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/roped-read-online-saffron-a-kent Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense, Virgin Authors: Saffron A. Kent Advertisement

Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)

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God of Malice meets Yellowstone in this stalker romance full of searing spice and featuring a college student being hunted by a cowboy utterly obsessed with her.

Nineteen-year-old Peyton Turner has a stalker. No, she doesn’t have a proof but she can feel him watching her every move. She can feel his intense stares through her bedroom window, and she can smell his intoxicating scent when he’s close. But every time she tries to catch him, he seems to disappear into the shadows. The only thing she knows for sure is that he wears a mask. A mask that hides a wicked scar running down his face but accentuates his startling green eyes.

She shouldn’t revel in his dangerous attention, but she can’t help herself. There’s something about him that calls to her. Until her best friend and the only person she’s ever been able to count on in her life, goes missing. Peyton has a feeling her masked stalker has something to do with it. After all, his sudden presence in her life can’t be a coincidence. But instead of staying away from him, she has a set a trap, draw him out of hiding and somehow bring her best friend home

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

PROLOGUE

Present

I KNOW HE’S here even though I can’t see him.

I also know he’s watching me because he always does. I wonder if he knows I’m wearing this dress for him. It’s white in color, but that’s the only thing innocent about it. It clings to me like a second skin, hits me a couple of inches above mid-thigh—so, basically, barely covers my ass—and its spaghetti straps are so thin, so fragile, that they’re practically a taunt.

For him.

To tear them off with one twist of his strong hands. With one snap of his sharp teeth, even. I imagine him standing in a darkened corner of this bar we’re in, flexing his fingers, clenching his teeth with the need to touch me as he watches me sip on the cosmo I got with my fake ID that shows I’m twenty-two instead of nineteen.

Good.

It means my plan is working. Or at least it’s off to a good start. Now on to the second part. Sitting at the bar, I eye the space, trying to choose my mark. It’s going to be between the guy in a white T-shirt at the other end of the bar, or the one in a Western-style denim shirt two tables behind me. They’re both drunk, obnoxiously so. They both look like they don’t take rejection well and think if a girl flirts with them, it’s her duty to put out. Not to mention, they both have on cowboy hats. Which isn’t that uncommon since we’re in the Wild West but which, in my experience, only bodes bad things. In short, they are both asshole cowboys that no decent girl should ever get involved with.

Perfect.

When I see the denim-shirt guy breaking away from his group of friends and making a beeline for the bar, my decision is made. I gulp down my cosmo in one go, feeling the burn of the liquor from my tongue all the way down to my chest, and spring up from the barstool. The moment I do, I feel a prickle at the nape of my neck. Not that it wasn’t there before—it followed me all the way through my apartment to this bar—but in this moment, as I make my way to the guy I’m about to pick up, that prickle has become heated, agitated. I ignore it, though, and put myself in the denim-shirt guy’s path, deliberately crashing into him. Pasting a demure smile on my lips, I look up at his face, lined with irritation. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

At my words, his irritation melts away and he flicks his drunken gaze up and down my body. “No worries, sweetheart,” he says, his voice carrying that cowboy-ish drawl, lazy and arrogant and totally disgusting in my opinion. “Ain’t every day I get bumped into by a girl as pretty as you.”

I want to smile in triumph; this is going to be easier than I thought. But I refrain and keep up the innocent act. Guys like him—and by that I mean bullheaded cowboys—like their girls sweet. They like them submissive and feminine, someone they can control and mold. While I can be feminine, I’m not anyone’s submissive. I love putting on pretty pink heels, but I’ll just as easily grind them into your balls if you mess with me.

“Well, I should really learn to watch where I’m going, though,” I say, batting my eyelashes a little bit.

His lips tip up into a smirk as he runs his eyes up and down my body again. This time, he pauses at my chest for a few seconds. Which isn’t all that generous—only 33B—but the built-in bra in this dress does give good cleavage. One of the many reasons why I chose to wear it for my mission tonight. Once he’s done checking me out, he looks up and licks his lips. “Well then, maybe I can teach you that. Don’t want you bumpin’ into the wrong sort of man.”

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Advertisement Wicked Ruin (The McCarthy Family Legacy #3) Read Online Jane Henry http://www.books2020.com/wicked-ruin-the-mccarthy-family-legacy-3-read-online-jane-henry Thu, 10 Sep 2026 18:27:24 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/wicked-ruin-the-mccarthy-family-legacy-3-read-online-jane-henry Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Virgin Authors: Jane Henry Series: The McCarthy Family Legacy Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >91

Forbidden. Pregnant. And hopelessly in love with a man who belongs to someone else.

Bridget Kavanagh has loved Declan McCarthy in silence for years — a dangerous man, an engaged man, the last man in Ireland she's allowed to want. One stolen night changed everything, and now she's carrying his baby with no idea how to tell him… or whether telling him will get her killed.

Because in the McCarthy family, a secret like hers doesn't just end in heartbreak. It ends in blood.

And the only man who can save her is the one she can never have

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

Part One

Prologue

Three years earlier…

BRIDGET

“I don't want to die a virgin, Erin.”

One sentence. Six words. And now I’m in a sex club, being led to a dance floor by a man in a mask, and my sister’s been practically confiscated.

“Just one dance,” the masked man says. His voice has a low, unhurried quality, the kind that makes you feel like you're being persuaded. It’s strangely off-putting. “Your sister's safe with McCarthy. Nobody else will touch her.”

Cavin McCarthy is my sister’s fiancé, but he’s also one of Ireland’s most feared. And didn’t he just get out of prison?

“Is safe really the right word?” I ask. I’m pretty sure it’s his family that owns the club we’re in.

A pause. “Well… no,” he admits. “But nobody else will hurt her. That much I can promise.”

Grand. Just what I needed to hear. Is that supposed to be reassuring?

His hand shifts to the small of my back, and his voice is close enough that I feel the warmth of it at my temple. I am… flattered. Curious. Someone who isn’t a doctor, a nurse, or a blood relative is paying attention to me. I haven't felt like anything other than a patient in so long—I find myself dancing with him, even though I’m not really into the gothic vibe this bloke’s giving off.

But two choruses in, and I am losing myself entirely because this man can dance, and there is nothing polite or restrained about it. His hands are on my hips. I am moving against him in a way I haven't moved against anyone in longer than I care to admit. I’m high on life and feeling good for once, and no one’s going to take that away from me.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before?” he asks. “Are you new here?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” I say in a voice I hope sounds coy rather than breathless.

He laughs, like he's delighted with me. Then he goes still. Completely still. His hand comes up in a gesture almost like self-defense, and I don't understand what’s going on until I hear a voice behind me.

“Hands off her and find somewhere else to be. Now.”

I blink, then turn.

My mouth drops open. A candle on the table beside us flickers out, and I try very hard not to think about the potential meaning.

The man standing behind me is tall and lean and sharply dressed, with a predatory stillness that makes everyone around him stare. Including me.

Dark hair. Blue eyes that have no business being on a face that already has everything else going for it. A jaw with a few days of stubble, tattoos crawling up his neck, and a very expensive black shirt, open just enough to be a problem. And a frown that suggests he is deeply unimpressed.

“Who are you?” I whisper.

I turn to find my masked dance partner, but he’s already fled into the crowd.

“Your keeper for the moment,” the man says. His eyes are narrowed. His voice is soft in the particular way that can be dangerous. “And you're Erin's sister.”

It isn't a question but an identification. A filing-away.

I stand there, my heart doing something mad in my chest, and realize with sudden, total clarity that my sister is marrying into a family of men who look at a woman like… this. As if they're already calculating the most efficient way to rearrange her entire life.

I think I understand her a little more now.

He's older than I am, bigger than I am, and wearing a gold band around his arm that means something I haven't worked out yet. Why does that bother me? I don't even know his name.

And what does keeper mean?

“You’re Bridget,” he says, like my name is a minor inconvenience.

“Yeah. And you are?”

“The man sent to fetch you.” He reaches for me, and I back up.

“Who sent you?”

“Erin’s fiancé, Cavin.” He reaches for me again. “Come with me.”

I slap his hand away before he can make contact. His eyes narrow.

“I'm going to give you a choice, Bridget.” The same low, even tone. “You walk with me quietly, just a short walk, and you stay out of trouble until Mr. McCarthy's ready for you. Or,” he adds, the corner of his mouth pulling, “you make me choose for you. I wouldn't recommend it.”

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Advertisement Century (Redline Kings MC #12) Read Online Fiona Davenport http://www.books2020.com/century-redline-kings-mc-12-read-online-fiona-davenport Sun, 16 Aug 2026 18:16:44 +0000 https://www.books2020.com/century-redline-kings-mc-12-read-online-fiona-davenport Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Authors: Fiona Davenport Series: Redline Kings MC Series by Fiona Davenport
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >50

Levi “Century” Wharton built his reputation on lightning-fast custom builds and stayed far away from drama. Until Saylor Everett walked into The Burnout, and he mistook her for her evil twin.

As soon as he realized his mistake, Century knew the pretty teacher was his. But when her sister stirs up dangerous trouble, Saylor gets pulled into the crosshairs. Century will do whatever it takes to protect the only woman who’s ever made him want to slow down

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

1

CENTURY

The neon sign over The Burnout glowed red through the humid Crossbend night. I parked my bike near the front, killed the engine, and sat there for a moment while the familiar noise of the place spilled through the door. Music thumped low from the jukebox inside, with enough bass to rattle the bottles behind the bar if Fury had the system cranked the way he usually did.

The place belonged to the Redline Kings MC and my club brother. Fury ran it like an extension of himself, which meant it was public enough for locals and racers to drink there, but everyone who walked through the door knew whose turf they were stepping onto.

I’d come by to drop off the keys to Fury’s motorcycle. He’d brought it to me earlier in the week after complaining that the throttle response felt off, which was Fury-speak for “I’m trusting you with my baby. Don’t make me say that out loud.”

The bike hadn’t needed much, just some fine adjustment, a little custom work on the intake, and a few tweaks because Fury liked his machines the same way as his bar—loud and not friendly to idiots.

I worked on custom bikes at The Pit, the garage owned by the club. I built the shit people remembered—especially my custom paint jobs. Customers who wanted something no one else had usually ended up in my bay sooner or later.

Inside, a scarred bar stretched along the right wall. Chrome stools lined the counter, pool tables sat beneath hanging lamps toward the back, and racing memorabilia, club photos, busted helmets, bent rims, and parts of wrecked cars mounted like trophies covered the walls. It was the kind of place where races were celebrated, grudges were buried if everyone was feeling generous, and new ones started if someone had more mouth than sense.

Fury was behind the bar when I walked in, wiping down the counter with a towel. When he saw the keys dangling from my hand, his mouth curved up. He looked like the kind of man people crossed the street to avoid, which was convenient since he usually preferred it that way. The regulars knew better than to make trouble in his bar and outsiders learned quick. Anybody short-sighted enough to disrespect a brother, an old lady, or our colors either apologized fast or found out how hard pavement felt when Fury helped them leave.

I tossed the keys onto the bar in front of him. “She’s done.”

He caught them before they slid too far and turned them over in his hand, his thumb brushing the worn leather keychain. “You fix the hesitation?”

“Yeah. Cleaned up the throttle response, adjusted the intake, and corrected the timing issue you kept pretending wasn’t there.”

His brows lifted slightly, but his mouth twitched because we both knew he hadn’t fooled me for a second. “Bike was fine.”

“Bike was annoyed you were neglecting her.”

He huffed a laugh and tucked the keys into his pocket. “You spend too much time sweet-talking machines.”

I shrugged. “Machines listen better than people.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Fury jerked his chin toward the taps behind him. “You staying for one?”

I should’ve headed back to the garage. I had a custom build waiting, three customer calls to return, and a parts order that Gauge wanted me to double-check before some supplier tried to charge us for imported bullshit that wouldn’t hold up under real speed. But a beer sounded damn good.

“Yeah.” I slid onto a stool near the end of the bar. “One.”

Fury poured a pint and set it in front of me. “Famous last words.”

“I’m not an overeager prospect trying to prove I’m not a lightweight. One means one.”

“Half the people sitting at my bar say that before they start making bad choices.”

“Half those assholes have poor impulse control.”

Fury barked a laugh. “And the other half lies.”

I shook my head, my lips tipped up in amusement before I took a drink. The beer was cold and felt good going down my throat after being out in the humidity that was always around in late August in Florida. A couple of brothers were playing pool near the back while a group of young, local racers argued over a replay on one of the big screens mounted over the far wall.

I was halfway through the beer when trouble walked up wearing too much perfume and stumbling slightly in high heels that didn’t belong in a place like this. Her body was poured into a short, tight dress that was low enough not to even pretend to be subtle. She probably would’ve attracted plenty of men but did absolutely nothing for me except make me wary of the fact that she was drunk, swaying, and headed straight into my space.

“Hi.” She drew the word out as she slid onto the stool beside mine without waiting for an invitation. “You’re hard to miss.”

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