By Barbi Barnard
First in the Mercy’s Angels Series.
This is also the story of three women who all have one thing in common: Angels Mercy MC.
Elizabeth forced to live the club life by threats and violence.
Jenni watched in disgust and confusion.
Tiffi heard the stories from her family.
Three women. Three tales of courage, determination… and a little humor. Find how “Momma” became the owner of a Motorcycle Club…
He laughs at me. “I’ll pat you dry when you’re done.” I cannot believe he just said that. I know I’m blushing. His hand comes up to my shirt and strokes my neck. “How far does that blush go?” he growls. “I want to get to know you. You are cute and sassy. You remind me of someone and it’s bugging me that I can’t place who that is. I swear I’ve seen those dimples before.”
He watches me. I know he can tell I’m thinking it over. Before I can decide, he pushes me up against the wall and crashes his mouth to mine. This man knows how to use his mouth. His tongue explores every crevice and is giving me ideas that are just plain X-rated. I’ve been kissed before but this isn’t a kiss. This is being explored to the tenth degree. His hands are holding me to him and exploring my back and ass. He stands and I lift off the floor with him. He pulls my leg around his hip on first one side then the other. No one has ever held me up and inspected my tonsils like this before. My hands are snaking up and around his neck. My fingers are itching to touch the scruff on his face and tangle in his hair. His mouth moves across my jaw and into my neck. I moan and I know he heard it.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmurs into my neck. Oh, I want it all right. I don’t know what it is but I want it! “Well? Tell me this is okay or I have to stop. I really don’t want to stop, baby,” he whispers into my ear.
“Don’t stop, oh God, don’t stop,” is all I can get out.
His mouth is on mine again and all coherent thoughts are gone.
“Where’s your room?” he asks.
“Second door on the left,” I pant out from lack of breath.
We’re moving and every step he takes is letting my girly bits rub on his belt. I hear him kick the door shut with his boot. He moves his hand from my ass and I hear the lock click.
Oh Emm Gee! This man is heaven sent. He smells amazing and my body is thrumming with need. This might just turn out to be my favorite mistake. I feel him lowering me to the bed. His weight on me is intoxicating.
“Kick your shoes off. Let me help you with your clothes,” he growls. My shoes are toed off and I feel his hands sliding my shirt up. I look up at him with want and need in my eyes and I see desire in his. “You’re beautiful. I want you. I really want you,” he says to me.
His kisses have me drugged and I can only moan as the feel of his hands on my chest are driving me insane with feelings.
“You need to tell me if this is what you want. I have to hear the words,” he growls, while moving his hands and mouth down to my chest. His lips nip at my breast and tug my nipple into his warm mouth. I am screaming in my head for him to never stop. He has stopped and I want to complain. He grabs my face and I look at him. “Tell me now whether to stay or go. If I go, I won’t be back,” he whispers while looking into my eyes.
“Don’t go,” I beg.
That’s all I need to say. His hands are reaching for my skirt. I feel him tugging my panties and hear them rip. It feels like he has a dozen hands. My clothes are torn from me and I feel his skin on mine. I have no clue where his shirt and vest went. His body is hard as steel. Muscles float across his torso, and make me think of washboards. There are eight to ten. This man is an overachiever in the six pack department. I feel the hardness of his cock pressed into my leg. This man is ready to make fantasies come true.
Barbi Barnard is a native of North Louisiana. Married with grown children. And a growing amount of Grandchildren (eleven at last count). Barbi went to college after the youngest started school and has a degree in Office Management and Accounting. Barbi loves to spend time with her family. With such a large family a revolving door would help as there are always people coming and going in the Barnard house. The need to read books was instilled at a young age as it was the preferred pastime of the adults that influenced her life.