Jailbait (Souls Chapel Revenants MC #3) Read Online Lani Lynn Vale

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, MC, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Souls Chapel Revenants MC Series by Lani Lynn Vale
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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We were the men that made up the Souls Chapel Revenants MC. We were also mostly people that had served hard time.

Most of us had committed felonies.

Though, those felonies had been committed for a good reason.

In Sin’s and my case, if you counted saving a girl a good reason.

Sin had literally broken a guy’s spine because that guy, a fellow drill sergeant, had decided to take it upon himself to show a female recruit a little extra special attention. Extra special attention that was not wanted that had almost killed her.

Sin had gone off like a bottle rocket, very similar to what I had done.

“What makes you think that it’s someone I know?” I grumbled.

“Because the moment that she walked through the door, you looked like your heart was just ripped out of your chest and shoved up your ass,” Sin joked.

I shot him a withering glare.

One that didn’t affect him in the least.

He looked at me with a grin on his face, then turned his eyes back to the bar.

“She’s pretty,” he murmured softly.

She was.

In fact, I hadn’t realized that the damn woman could physically get any more attractive.

But I was wrong.

She’d gotten some hips and ass on her since I’d last seen her.

I’m not saying that she didn’t look pretty as hell before, but now? Now she was all woman, and that was making my dick harder than hell.

I needed to get laid.

But the problem was, even now, all these years later, I didn’t just get hard for any woman.

I got hard for her.

Always for her since the damn day I saw her.

Even sitting in that courtroom, getting sentenced to years in prison, I’d been staring at her with a hard-on.

Who the hell has a hard-on when they are getting sentenced to twenty fucking years?

Patrick Moore Wheat, that’s fucking who.

“She’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” I grumbled. “You need your eyes checked if you think she’s merely pretty. That’s the face and the body that got me into trouble all those years ago. Remember, she was fuckin’ seventeen when I saw her the first time.”

“I was thirty-six when I first saw the girl that’s twisting my dick into a knot. And she was fuckin’ eighteen. So, I’m not doing much better than you. At least you were closer to her age,” Sin grumbled.

He had a point.

“You only spent a few years in prison, though,” I pointed out. “I had twelve.”

He hummed under his breath. “How old is she now?”

“Twelve plus seventeen is…” I waited, hoping he’d fill in the blank.

He flipped me off.

“Twenty-nine in case you can’t add up that high,” I joked.

He sighed. “I think I’ll go have a drink.”

I tensed as he moved away, walking straight to the bar where my girl was sitting.

My girl.

Son of a bitch.

She wasn’t my anything.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I had to stop thinking about her.

“Hi, who are you?”

Why had I heard Sin’s question all the way the fuck over where I was standing?

That’s when I looked over at the end of the bar to see the music in the process of changing songs.

Shit.

That was why.

“I’m drinking alone,” came Swayze’s reply. “Go away.”

My lips twitched.

I would’ve laughed, but I didn’t want her attention on me.

The music started up, and whatever Sin said in reply was lost.

I moved toward the bar where the old man, the one that usually worked the door taking the cover charge, had taken my place.

“Thanks, Kenny,” I said as I rounded the end of the bar.

Kenny looked up. “It was good being back. But shit, my feet hurt, and I was only back here long enough to give you a dinner break. I much rather my space by the door.”

I slapped him on the back as I retook my spot behind the bar where I’d made it my home away from home since I’d gotten out and walked to the man holding up two fingers for another shot.

After I poured it for him and he said thank you, I moved to the middle of the bar and listened to Sin’s conversation with Swayze.

“Your eyes are very different,” Sin drawled. “What’s that called?”

She didn’t answer.

But I knew.

Heterochromia. I’d looked it up a couple of years ago in the prison library.

“What’s that tattoo on your shoulder say? I can’t read it all,” Sin continued as if she hadn’t ignored his last question.

That had me looking over to see the tattoo.

I’ve loved you at your darkest. Romans 5:8

I looked away, jaw clenching.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

I picked up a glass and started to polish it.

“Can you get me another beer?” I heard Swayze say.

And good goddamn.

Her voice was even huskier than it used to be.

A voice that sexy didn’t look like it should come out of a woman that appeared so youthful. So unaffected by life.

But Jesus, did the woman work it.

I looked over at her to see that she was staring down at her hands. She hadn’t even looked up yet to see who she was talking to.



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