Title: King of Kings
Author: Betty Shreffler
Genre: MC Romance, Suspense
I told myself I didn’t want her.
Didn’t need her.
But it was all lies.
I craved her touch.
Craved the way her sweet red lips took away the pain.
Yet I knew I couldn’t have her.
Not when my enemies are determined to put a bullet in my back.
They believe the way to get to me is through her.
Coming for her will be their downfall.
As the President of the Kings MC, there’s one thing I’m known for—doing whatever it takes to protect the ones I love.
I’ll fight until I have nothing left to give.
Until she and my family are safe.
I’m not preparing for battle.
I’m preparing to end the war.
My choices might be the death of me.
But if the scars on my body and heart have taught me anything, it’s that love is worth the sacrifice.
Excerpt . . .
Chugging my beer, I stare up at her beautiful hazel-green eyes. Expression bold and challenging, she fuels my desire for her. In the tight, dark red skirt, her creamy thighs taunt me, antagonizing me even more than her words.
“Happiness is a luxury I can’t have. Because of who I am, anyone I care for gets hurt.”
Straddling my legs, she sits on my lap. My hand goes to her @ss, cupping her against me.
“I’m not asking you to love me. I’m offering to satisfy our needs. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to protect my heart.”
Gaze matching hers, my wall breaks down, diminishing into a pile of rubbish. I want this woman—want to feel her clench around me as I f--k her hard and hear her beg for me to make her come—but I know if I do, I’d be setting myself up for disaster.
“Don’t think, Nix. Just live.”
Soft lips demand me to give in. Tongue slipping between my lips, I taste her, and at that moment, I lose all self-control. A thud sounds as my beer drops to the floor. I don’t care if it’s pouring all over the place, I need her lips on mine. Fingers tucked under her skirt, I raise the fabric, revealing the part of her my c*ck aches to be inside of. Rising to my feet, I drop her legs and spin her. Hand on her back, I bend her over and tug her lacy thong down her thighs.
About the Author . . .
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