Brotherhood is what Bull bleeds and all that he knows.
Being the king of The Devil’s Dust and surrounded by easy women was his everyday… until having his heart broke rooted him to the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
Heartbroken, and drowning in lost memories he’s unsure of the direction of his life, when the answer – consisting of a terrified Mexican girl- nearly knocks him off his feet.
Determined to get his act together and rectify his club, he rides to Texas for answers, only to be confronted with the emotional ghosts he isn’t ready to deal with.
He sees Anahi, and he wants her.
But she may come with more baggage than Bull is ready for.
Anahi used to be prim and proper. She used to wear dresses and keep up appearances to impress people she didn’t know. I guess you could say she was a fucking lady.
But that was when she lived in Mexico with her parents.
Before her uncle turned on her.
Before, the only man she ever loved, her step-brother, betrayed her.
Before she was forced to be a drug mule for the Cartel.
Evening gowns a lost memory, expensive heels traded for boots, and a nine millimeter in her hand instead of a limited edition purse. Anahi sets aside everything she’s ever known including the fairytale stories her mother told her about America.
She’s angry, determined, and looking for a way out.
Walking toward my room I notice my bike propped up on two blue milk crates. I stop in my tracks, my hands balling in my palms so hard my nails cut the skin.
Bull is hunched down, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. No shirt on under his leather vest and grease all over him.
Music plays behind him as his dexterous hands make quick work at the guts of my Fixie. Panic races in my chest. He’s breaking her apart bolt by bolt!
What the fuck? Is he trying to destroy everything of mine?
“Oh I love that song.” I flinch, not noticing Jose standing behind me. “It’s Godsmack‘s Stay Away.” He informs.
“Jesus Christ, Jose, you can’t just sneak up on me like that!” I scorn, clutching my chest. “I could have just punched you in the throat, do you realize that?” He knows what goes on out here, I have to stay on my toes all the time.
“You going over there?” Jose ignores my rant, eyeing Bull over my shoulder. Biting my cheek I turn. My throat bobbing as I watch Bull toss bolts and shit over his shoulder.
My thighs clench on their own, defying the rage poisoning me. Sweat drips from his forehead, black grease streaked among his hard chest. I can’t help the hitch in my breathing.
“Can I have him?” Jose whispers. I blink away the sultry smog clouding my anger and stomp toward the sexy biker.
“Yeah, after I kill him!” I clip.
Bull stands and flicks his cigarette. His movements appearing in slow motion as smoke bellows from his lips. He turns, his back facing me and shrugs out of his cut, throwing it over on the patio. His muscular back inked with the same image that is on the vest.
I narrow my brows, trying to remind myself of the mission at hand.
Holding my hand out I hesitate on if I should touch him or turn around. I look over my shoulder and see Jose looking at me like I lost my mind.
Maybe I have.
Inhaling a large breath, I poke Bull in the shoulder as hard as I can.
His skin is slick with sweat and hot to the touch. The contact shooting warmth through my finger and through my body before igniting in my toes.
He looks over his shoulder, a hard look on his face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snarl.
He lifts his chin and smiles. Fucking smiles.
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M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She’s a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn’t live with the “what if” anymore and finally took a chance on her character’s story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.
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