Kincaid – Cerberus MC Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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I stiffen when I see Emmalyn and feel Bunny’s hand in my back pocket clench at the same time. I didn’t even realize her hand was there until that exact moment. The club girls are always super friendly and grabby, and I wasn’t thinking anything of it. I understand now exactly what Em saw when she walked in.

Not wanting to look like a total pussy in front of nearly my entire club, I pretend it’s no big deal and walk to the table and sit down. Almost like she’s connected to my hip, Bunny’s movements mimic mine. The entire room is deathly silent; each and every person in the room waiting with bated breath for this to play out.

“Hey, Em,” I say with a quick glance in her direction. I wish I hadn’t looked. I wish I had been more aware of myself rather than just falling into the same routine I’ve participated in for as long as I can remember, because the look on her face and the hurt in her eyes almost had me jumping up from the table and going to her. Almost.

I saw pain, and if I’m not mistaken, some form of realization in her eyes as she looked around the room and spoke to Rose before she turned around and left. I’m the biggest prick in the world. If it wasn’t evident with the way I just acted, it was clear as day as Rose walked past me, slapped me on the back of the head, and called me an idiot before she left the room to go after Em.

The room erupts in hisses and a handful of “you fucked up big time” and “someone’s in trouble.” I ignore them, brooding over my breakfast until I hear them making comments about her to each other.

“I’d never leave the room if that broad was in my bed,” I hear Skid say.

“You’re telling me,” Ace says from across the room. “I’d starve to death while feeding her my dick all day.”

“Enough,” I say harshly. I look around the room making sure I have everyone’s complete attention. Bunny’s slight movement on the bench seat we’re on grates my nerves. I slide away from her before addressing the group.

“If I hear one more person say something suggestive about Emmalyn they’ll be on clubhouse detail until Christmas. She’s not some club whore who’s going to be passed around. Got me?” I look around the room acknowledging their surprised looks as well as head nods accepting the orders. “You’ll look at her and think of her as your fucking sister. You’ll protect her like your own daughter. Understand?”

The apologies from around the room don't help my horrible mood, a mood I’m in because of my own damn pride. A low territorial growl emits from beside me, and I look over at Bunny and dare her to say something. Then I cut my eyes at Snatch and back to Bunny.

Understanding me immediately he calls to her. “Bunny, come say hi to me, baby.”

True to Bunny form, she bounces up from her seat and playfully saunters to Snatch, settling on his lap. It’s how she got her name. Like a rabbit, she’s always jumping from one guy to the other looking for the next carrot. She doesn’t know why she earned the nickname; she just thinks it’s a cute pet name. Don’t even get me started on how Snapper got her name, I think as I look across the room and watch the redhead's hand disappear below the table and watch Snake’s eyes darken.

***

I’m pissed at myself as I heave in the dry New Mexico air. My longer runs usually help me clear my mind of whatever is bothering me. It’s a form of therapy, but today it’s not working like it usually does. No matter how hard I run, or how tight I squeeze my eyes closed I can’t get the look of hurt in Emmalyn’s eyes out of my mind.

We’re not together. She has no claim on me or me on her, but I hurt her. And why? Because I didn’t want to look weak and pussy-whipped in front of my guys. Who gives a fuck if that’s the way it appears? I’m not. How could I be when I’ve never even had my lips on hers?

There’s a connection there, a spark. At least for me, there is. The anguish I saw before she left the kitchen this morning tells me that she feels something also. Did. I think bitterly because I’m sure I’ve ruined whatever chance there may have been.

Even more frustrating is my concern over a woman not wanting me. It doesn’t happen very often, but it’s happened before. Something about Emmalyn, though, makes me want to crawl on my knees and beg forgiveness for sins I’ve committed my entire life, not just for the stunt I pulled in the kitchen this morning.



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