(Black Reign MC, #6)
Published by: Changeling Press
Publication date: February 11th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Charlotte: When I get into trouble, I go big. There was so much pain and fear, I turned my thoughts inward. To Samson. He’s my knight in shining armor. The one man I’ve ever felt a real connection to. Then he was there, killing those who hurt me and sweeping me up in his embrace of warmth and safety. But now he sees me as a victim. Not a woman. It’s up to me to prove I’m made of sterner stuff.
Samson: I had no intention of having sex with the little spitfire, but one look at Charlotte and I knew she was trouble. Our night was the kind of explosive a man can’t walk away from, but I tried. Right up until her daddy showed up telling me she was missing and the last person she was seen with was one of the prospects from Black Reign. Wrangler, the little asshole, had her squirreled away somewhere and I knew if I didn’t find her soon, I might never see her again.
Saving Charlotte from Wrangler will be a piece of cake — after this his days are numbered. Which leaves me with time. Too much time. Time Charlotte’s dad will have to convince her to leave me and come back home. So, how do I fight off another man determined to take my woman from me when that man is her daddy?
Samson shook his head slightly, breaking eye contact with me. “Where’s your ride?”
I shrugged. “I walk. It’s not far, and I need the exercise.”
“Not a smart idea, you know. Woman alone in the city.”
“It is what it is, I guess,” I said. “I just have better things to spend money on than an Uber or a taxi.”
“Yeah. Don’t take an Uber.” He sighed, turning his head away from me and shaking it slightly several times. It looked like he was having some kind of argument with himself. And losing. “Fuck,” he said with another shake of his head. “Get on,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”
“What’s different about riding with a guy I don’t know on a motorcycle versus riding with a guy I don’t know in an Uber? Seems like the first option is more dangerous than the second.”
“‘Cause this guy you don’t know ain’t out to hurt you. Now get the fuck on.”
Yeah. Probably should argue, but I didn’t want to. I was thrilled! Not only did I get to ride a motorcycle, but I got to do it with quite possibly the sexiest man I’d ever met.
Samson was probably in his late thirties or early forties. He was bald, but had a neatly trimmed beard and intense, silver-blue eyes. He wore a sleeveless black T-shirt that showed off heavily muscled arms I was sure would feel like heaven wrapped around me. As I got on the bike behind him, he grabbed one of my arms by the wrist and pulled it around his body. Yep. His abdomen was as rock hard as those glorious arms were.
“Where’s your home?” I gave him the address, and he nodded once. “Hang on.”
We took off smoothly. Soon, we were cruising down the road the mile and a half to my tiny apartment. Once there, I hadn’t nearly had my fill of groping his hard body. Which was kinda twisted, but I was good with it.
He turned off the bike, putting the kickstand down but making no move to get off. He steadied me as I climbed off the back, careful not to touch the pipes and burn my bare leg.
“Thanks for the lift,” I said, grasping at something to say to prolong my time with him. He hadn’t spoken much, but I wanted to get to know this guy. It was like the intimacy of riding behind him was more telling than an hour-long conversation. While I was sure I’d enjoy the conversation, I found I wanted the physical stimuli more. I knew I was taking an offer of help and turning it into something it wasn’t, but I was sure he felt something for me. Maybe it was my youth he liked, or maybe I was just his type. But this man was interested in me. It was only for sex, but I could see it when he looked at me.
He grunted but said nothing else.
“You want to come up for a cup of coffee?” Did I even have coffee in the apartment? No clue. I might be embarrassed if he said yes.
“No,” he clipped, but he didn’t start his bike. Samson didn’t strike me as the indecisive type.
“A beer, then.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you even old enough to drink beer?”
I shrugged. “I’ll be twenty-one in a couple of months. If I happen to acquire a six-pack a little bit early, what does it matter?”
Again, he grunted.
Then something caught his eye. I wasn’t sure what it was, but his gaze hardened and followed something behind me. I turned and saw a man walking down the sidewalk in front of my building. He wasn’t paying us any attention and kept going, but Samson seemed to have taken his presence as a threat.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll walk you up.”
“I’ll be fine, you know. This is a pretty safe neighborhood. The studio apartment I rent is overpriced, but I figure it’s because the area is pretty secure.”
“You can’t be too careful,” he quipped. “Come on. Besides, maybe I want that beer after all.”
When he took my arm and gently urged me forward, my heart sped up. Was this really happening? God, I hoped so! I wasn’t a virgin, but I knew I’d only scratched the surface of sex and pleasure. Could this guy do it for me? I was sure as shit turned on enough for him to. But would he?
“Know that look, girl,” he said gruffly as we walked up the three flights to my tiny apartment. “You’re too young for what I want.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you know until you try?”
“Oh, I know.” He waited until I opened the door, then followed me inside muttering, “I’m so fucked.”
Romance author by night, emergency room tech/clerk by day, Marteeka Karland works really hard to drive everyone in her life completely and totally nuts. She has been creating stories from her warped imagination since she was in the third grade. Her love of writing blossomed throughout her teenage years until it developed into the totally unorthodox and irreverent style her English teachers tried so hard to rid her of. Now, she breathes life into faeries, space hunters, werewolves, vampires, shapeshifters, and a few just plane ole ordinary people. She loves to see the awkward, self-conscious band geek get the captain of the football team and make him beg for it.
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