Joaquin (Reckless Souls MC #5) Read Online KB Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Reckless Souls MC Series by KB Winters
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
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I nod and silently accept her words. “If you’re serious, I could use some tips on how to keep customers coming in without Maven Cakes on the menu. We can make the muffins and breads and stuff, but only Maven has the special touch for her cakes. It would be nice if there’s still a business when she gets out of jail.”

Whenever the fuck that’ll be. The cops are behaving like dicks, not giving any status updates, even to her lawyer on her status, which I’m pretty sure is fucking illegal.

Ruby nods. “I’ll give it some thought and stop by the shop in a day or two. A good sale like two-for-one always gets asses in the seats.”

“Good to know,” I tell her. “Thanks. Hungry?”

“I wasn’t,” she growls and gives Kelsey’s plate some major side-eye. “But with those delicious smells tempting me, I might as well taste the calories before they hit my ass.”

Kelsey rolls her eyes. “Your ass is fine. No one but you complains about it.”

Ruby laughs again. “That’s because you haven’t been talking to my pants. Those bitches have so much to say,” she jokes.

“Everyone knows pants shrink in the dryer,” I tell her.

Ruby flashes a wide grin. “You are officially my favorite person in the world.” Rocky coos and Ruby gives her an adoring smile. “All right, second favorite,” she says in a baby voice.

“I’ll be back with your food,” I tell her and head toward the door, hoping she comes up with a few ideas I can use to keep customers coming in while Maven isn’t around.

After delivering plates and checking everyone has what they need to start eating, I finally drop down to an empty table with a beer in one hand and a plate of food in the other. By now, I barely have the energy to sigh, I’m so exhausted.

Days at the bakery start early, but nights at the clubhouse seem to go on forever. After just a few days, this routine is starting to catch up with me.

When my phone vibrates on the table and Mom’s text message flashes on the screen, I know my night just got longer.

“Honey, rent is due. I can cover most of it, but I’m short until the end of the week. Do you think you can cover the rest?”

Shit, rent. I can’t let Mom carry the whole month’s rent on her own. She mostly lives on tips, and the last time she covered the rent by herself, she walked to work rather than asking me to cover her bus pass. Not to mention the pervy old landlord will offer to let her pay in sex, and I won’t let that happen. Again.

“On my way,” I text back, abandoning my barbecue and beer to bolt out of my seat. I have to search for Ace since I need his permission to leave.

But just then, Joaquin steps in my path. “Going somewhere?” he asks with a panty-melting grin.

“Yeah, I need to find Ace,” I say, half-turned on and half-distracted by my new task.

“Ace is off with McKenna,” he says in a deep purr that wakes my clit up and makes my nipples go hard.

“I need to talk to him,” I say and quickly explain to Joaquin my predicament.

His flirty grin disappears, and a serious expression replaces it. “I’ll talk to Ace. Don’t leave without me, yeah?”

I nod and watch Joaquin walk away, his steps determined. I can’t help but smile because I realize Joaquin is more than a pretty face. He’s hot as fuck, sure, but that protective streak is just as big a turn-on as his thick cock.

Jeezus, just like that, my body is craving Joaquin again. Thinking of wrapping my lips around that cock and making him growl my name when I should be thinking about Maven and For Goodness Cakes and paying the rent.

Joaquin returns with a slightly less serious expression on his face. “Let’s go,” he says and motions to someone behind me. “Diesel is coming with us to keep watch.”

“No one travels alone,” I say, mimicking the words Ace says all the time just in case his troops are tempted to forget.

I hop on the back of Joaquin’s bike, my hands instantly roaming his body. He’s so strong and so hard everywhere, and I want him. Again. Now. His breath hitches when my hand slides down his abs, and I grip his waistband.

“Willow,” he growls over the roar of the engine. “You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry?” I tease, not sorry at all.

His deep laughter sounds as we turn onto my block.

“Park in the back,” I tell him. “I don’t want to run into the landlord if he’s home. His windows face the front of the building.”

Joaquin nods and slows the bike to circle down the narrow alley that leads to the back entrance of our apartment. I can feel the heat of his body against my back as I step inside the place I share with my mom, wondering if what he sees—a tidy but shabby home—makes him see me differently.


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