Solo Rider – Mayhem Makers MMM Read Online Lilly Atlas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Contemporary, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34426 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
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Moose works better on his own. People had let him down his entire life. He doesn’t need or want anyone in his personal space and business all day and night. Traveling the country as a nomad for his MC suits his solitary desires. Working odd jobs in whatever city he lands earns him more than enough to afford his simple lifestyle. He pops in on various club chapters when they need him but never sticks around long enough to lay down roots. The very idea of permanence and complicated human emotions gives him hives. Until the night he rescues a waitress at a truck stop diner.

Daisy gets under Moose’s skin so fast he never sees it coming. Before long, he wonders if he can make room for another person in his solo life. One who makes him feel things he’s never felt.

But before making any decisions, Moose must find a way to keep Daisy safe for more than one night. And that might mean relying on the people he typically keeps at a distance.

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

CHAPTER ONE

PEOPLE SUCKED.

More accurately, people fucking sucked.

It was a hard life lesson to come to terms with, but one Moose took to heart. Hell, he lived and died by that one mantra.

People fucking sucked.

It was why he’d left his daily MC life to go nomad many years ago. Ever since, he’d spent his life on the road alone. No one to bitch at him when he fell asleep with the television on. No one to answer to if he didn’t feel like sticking to a regular schedule. No one pretended they cared about him, only to neglect his basic needs. No one constantly reminded him what a black sheep he was and how he’d never fit in with the people who were supposed to love him above all.

Just him—the one person he could rely upon in any situation.

Right then, in a shitty truck stop diner, he witnessed a perfect example of humanity’s shittiest representatives. The cute waitress who’d been busting her ass all evening, serving ungrateful jackass after ungrateful jackass, now had to deal with straight-up harassment from a table of four guys with the collective brain power of one rabid dog.

“Where the fuck’s my next beer?” the one who appeared to be the ringleader asked before letting out a belch that must smell like steaming dog shit. He’d scarfed a plate of jalapeno poppers and washed it down with at least four beers, all while a cigarette dangled from the corner of his mouth.

“It’s comin’, Buster,” she said, voice flustered. “Sorry it’s taking me so long, but it got busy in here. Dinner time rush. You know how it is.”

“Well, hurry it the fuck up. I’m thirsty.” He slapped her ass as she walked by, laughing when she jumped and scurried away.

Moose’s spine stiffened.

Fuck, he hated that shit. Willing women were easy to find, so there was no need for a man to put his hands on a woman who hadn’t asked for it and didn’t want it.

Such a simple fucking concept.

Moose had been sitting in the diner for at least an hour and a half. He’d eaten a greasy and surprisingly tasty dinner, then lingered, nursing a beer and people-watching. His only other plan for the evening was to head back to the roadside motel and watch television. Typically, he’d head straight there after finishing his meal, but tonight he hadn’t been in the mood.

And it had nothing to do with how his dick perked up at the sight of that cute waitress.

He watched the young woman scurry around, managing half-a-dozen tables with hungry truckers. She was pretty in an exhausted, overworked way—blonde hair with light eyes and slender features. Hell, she was downright tiny. He could probably snap her in half with a flick of his wrist, yet she hefted a giant tray with multiple platters and carried it across the damn dining room like it weighed no more than a piece of paper.

Impressive.

But she had to be dead on her feet. Poor thing hadn’t stopped moving long enough to even take a sip of water. Moose had the craziest urge to invite her to sit and take a load off. Usually, he hated company, but this woman deserved a fucking break, and he could probably tolerate her presence for a bit.

Eventually, she made her way back to his table. Her crooked nametag read ‘Daisy.’ The name seemed to suit her sunny disposition. “Sorry I haven’t been by to check on you sooner, sir,” she rushed out. “You sticking around for another beer?”

He crossed his legs to keep from pushing out a chair and ordering her to sit. This was her job, and she was an adult.

He nodded. “No rush. I can wait. Thanks.” Aside from ordering his food, that was all he’d spoken to her. Moose was a man of few words, and talking to people gave the impression he wanted them to stick around, and well, he never wanted that.

She grinned, transforming her face from worn out to lively and, well, pretty as fuck. “Just for that, I’ll bring it right over. Wish all my customers were half as accommodating.”

Spinning on her heel, she strode across the room toward the bar. Her legs were bare in a short denim skirt that’d be easy to flip up as he bent her over the—

Moose shook his head. Christ, he was as lecherous as those drunk assholes pawing at her.

Speaking of, as she hustled past their table, one of the men stroked a hand up her thigh. She yelped and stumbled. If not for her quick footwork, she’d have hit the floor.

And did any of those shitbags help steady her? Of course not. They hooted and laughed like she was the evening’s entertainment.

When she returned with his beer, she took a wide berth around their table.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Daisy. We was just playing,” the ringleader called out. “Come back!”


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