Read Online Books/Novels:
Torch CAOS MC
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Rule #1: Never screw the sheriff’s daughter.
If you love dirty-talking bikers who love their MC as much as their women, one-click this instalove novella now.
|Books by Author:|
Tonight was the last night of my college career, and I planned to make the absolute best of it. I passed my finals and would walk across the stage so my daddy can clap and whistle because I made good on the ridiculous amount of money he’d spent to help me get my journalism degree. That was tomorrow. Tonight I planned to party like it was the end of the world, which meant my first stop was to surprise my friends with benefits, Chase.
Wearing a teeny tiny mini-skirt that showed off my legs to perfection, my lucky blue thong, and four-inch heels he’d beg me to keep on while his hot, hard body thrust into mine. I got chills just thinking about it as I made my way to his off-campus apartment where I’d spend a few hours before meeting up with the girls for one last night of drinking and debauchery. Since most of my belongings were on their way to my new apart in Los Angeles where I’d gotten a job at a sleazy tabloid magazine, I could afford to spend tonight acting like an irresponsible college girl. And I planned to!
Pulling into an empty spot outside Chase’s building, I stepped out and smoothed my skirt before walking up the same staircase I had all year with its broken bulb above the outside door which was always unlocked. The building was a shit-house with security and sketchy tenants, but Chase was gorgeous and a great lay, plus he had the best pot on campus. A few other girls mentioned he had the best coke, but that shit wasn’t for me. I liked to party, not get hooked. Not that any of that mattered anymore since tonight was our last night together, and I just wanted to come. A lot.
Stopping at the top of the stairs I smoothed my hair and began a slow, sultry walk to the end of the hall that gave me enough time to put on the sex kitten persona Chase loved. Then I heard it. Voices. Male voices. They sounded angry, but I still pushed the already slightly open door a little wider and peeked inside. Some guy with white-blond hair and a snake tattoo coiling up his neck and around his ear was yelling at Chase who was…tied up? What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Chase?
“I told you this was the last fucking time, Chase. No more getting high on your own supply or worse, giving my shit away so you can get some college ass. You’re short, and the only thing I want to know is, where is my fuckin’ money?”
Chase’s big blue eyes were surrounded by bruises, one was swelling alarmingly, and a large gash split his top lip. But true to form he pulled out the charm. “Man, listen to me. This is graduation weekend, and everyone is looking to party. Tonight. Before families descend in the morning. Front me some product and I’ll overcharge these rich asshole and turn everything over to you.” The blond man’s fist moved in slow motion before smashing into Chase’s face with a loud crunch that I was pretty sure meant a broken nose. At least. “Ow, dude! What the fuck, Stash?”
The man called Stash shook out his hand and scowled. “I told you I’m done fucking around, Chase. Tell me you have my money somewhere in this shit hole, and we’ll be done.”
“You know I don’t, man.” Chase finally sounded worried. His shoulders fell, and I knew this wouldn’t end well for him. The guy, Stash, seemed unhinged.
I wasn’t sure what to do. Obviously this wasn’t my scene and honestly it wasn’t even my business, but damn Chase was in trouble. Big trouble. If Daddy were here he’d know, being Sheriff and all. But he wasn’t and when the man pulled out a small caliber gun with a pearl handle, I knew the slow backing away my legs had already begun was my only move. I couldn’t help Chase. All I could do was get myself hurt.
“Wrong answer, Chase.”
“Just give me tonight, Stash. Please.”
My hands trembled as the man spoke. “No can do, Chase.” Then he raised the gun and aimed it at Chase. “You were a good money maker for me, really, bro. But I got people to answer to, and your blood is the only that’ll save them from spilling mine.” Two deafening pops sounded, much louder than with the protective headgear Daddy always made me wear at the shooting range. Chase’s head snapped back and slowly fell forward though he didn’t move, didn’t grunt, or cry out in pain as blood dripped from his head and down his blue Ralph Lauren beach shirt. He was dead. Dead.
With a short gasp, my brain finally clicked in, and I turned and ran as fast as I could in four-inch fuck me heels. I made it to my car in record time, not even thinking about the loose stair or the crackhead leaning against the mailboxes. I quickly turned over the engine and hit the gas as hard as I could. I thanked whatever forces had urged me to fill up my gas tank earlier in the day, and I didn’t stop until I saw the greatest welcome sign in the world.