Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi Karen Renee (top non fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

legs cupping him from behind, arms wrapped tight around him. Stephanie’s attitude about not being on anybody’s bike took him aback and he didn’t intend to break that down.

Independence was a hell of an attribute. Especially in a woman. His sister taught him that the hard way.

He couldn’t think about Corinna though. When it didn’t make him sad, it only pissed him off.

Still, he ran his fingers under his nose. Her scent lingered, which reminded him of her taste. He liked the taste of women, but hers turned him on more than others.

So, yeah.

Today he would pay the price for pushing her boundaries and he would do it gladly.

He fired up the shower to wash away her scent, find his relief from bringing her pleasure, and prepare himself for building stronger allegiances with his brothers.

His gut hadn’t lied three weeks ago. Stephanie was a distraction he didn’t need, and her actions today showed she wasn’t the woman he needed right now.

IN A STRANGE TWIST of fate, Roman was the only brother inside the clubhouse, other than the three prospects. It didn’t sit well with him to find so many brothers missing, but he saw this as an opportunity.

“Got a minute, Roman?”

“Always, Prez.”

He jerked his head toward the room they used for church, and Roman followed.

Har closed the door behind Roman. “You got an opinion on our pot business?”

His brother stared back at him, his expression blank as a statue. After another moment he said, “The money’s nice, but that’s going to be harder to come by soon. I don’t want to see us deal the harder shit. Comes with more headaches than we have now.”

Har nodded. “You have ideas on new ways to bring in money?”

Roman’s head wobbled. “There are plenty of ways to make money, but they all require work. Some don’t want to do any work.”

“Right,” Har whispered.

“Which is bullshit.” Roman’s eyes had turned fierce.

“So, if we decide on a new business avenue, you’re willing to put in some work.”

A small smile flitted across Roman’s face. “So long as the others are pulling their weight, yeah.”

Har nodded. “Fair enough, brother. And, if you don’t mind—”

One of Roman’s hands shot up. “Forget it. This conversation stays between you and me.”

Har smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Ro.”

As he moved to the door, Roman paused to look over his shoulder at Har. “And I’m sure you already know this, but Massive is allergic to real work.”

He leaned against the conference table for a while after Roman left. He knew Massive and Wreck were intent on keeping the marijuana business, but his gut told him they were the heart of the problem.

Contending with them would require finesse.

A sultry voice interrupted his concentration. “Har, honey...”

He glanced up. Layla, a sweet-butt who had been around for over seven years, stood in the doorway with a come-hither look on her face.

“What do you want, Layla?”

“Well,” she drawled. “Can I come in here? You look really tense, but I bet me sucking you off would relieve that.”

His eyes narrowed. “You know better. Women don’t come in here, and I was on my way out anyway.”

She stepped back. “Fine, fine. I can take care of you in your room.”

He pressed his lips together to keep his temper in check. With her wavy dark hair, dark eyes, and voluptuous figure, Layla had looks, but she’d also had every one of his brothers. There wasn’t anything she wasn’t open to sexually. Adventurous sex had it’s time and place, but he was over it.

And she isn’t Stephanie.

He blew out a disappointed sigh.

This shit had to stop. Stephanie drew the line in the sand, and he could respect that – would respect it.

“See. That tells me you need some attention, Harmful.”

His eyes rolled. “No, Layla. You need to back off. I’m in a foul mood and no offense, but you aren’t helping.”

He closed and locked the double doors behind himself. When he turned around, she stood in his space, her tits pressed against him. “But I want to help, honey.”

“Won’t say it again, Lay. Back off.”

He’d fucked up. She hated being called ‘Lay,’ and he did it because it was how he thought of her. Just a woman out for a lay. It was insulting to her, but sometimes the truth hurt.

Her face screwed up with pouty anger. “Don’t call me that, Har.”

“You move back and move on, I won’t call you shit.”

Her head reared back. “Jeez. Almost sounds like you got a ball and chain.”

His teeth clenched. “I don’t, but you need to get the fuck away from me. Now.”

With a roll of her eyes, she turned away and teetered on her high-heels down the hall.

He pulled himself together and sauntered to the bar. Brute sat with Roman and Har took a stool on Brute’s left.

“You got a spare bedroom at your place, right?” he asked.

Brute shot him a look. “Why do you ask?”

“Your stepsister is why I ask.”

“We just moved all her shit into a completely empty side of your house, man. What the fuck?”

“It wasn’t that much shit, and I think she’d be better off staying with family.”

Roman leaned forward. “You fuck her?”

He clenched his teeth. “No. I—”

“You want to fuck her,” Roman muttered.

Har tilted his head back for a beat. “No, I just think she’d be better off with her stepbrother.”

Brute stared at him for a while. “You’re full of shit. And part of me wants to say fucking her would be wrong of you, but she and Susan are right. I haven’t been their stepbrother in over a decade. I’m not her family any more than you are.”

Har looked away. The way this shit day had gone, he shouldn’t be surprised this wasn’t working out. When he turned back, a prospect had put a bottle of beer in front of him. He took a swig, aware both of his brothers were staring at him.

Brute laughed. “You like her.”

His brows furrowed. “No. She’s prissy.”

Brute laughed harder and louder. “Man, she rides a Harley and deals poker.