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

chalked his cue stick while Roman racked, he reminded himself to peek at it later. Sandy sat on the opposite end of the couch reading a book, and he couldn’t remember a time when two women sat in the common room not trying to get a brother’s attention.

“Your break, Prez,” Roman called as he grabbed a cue stick from the wall.

He tore his gaze from his woman, bent over the table, lined up the ball and his cue and broke the rack. It was a decent break, but none of the balls sunk, which left Roman with his pick.

Over an hour later, Roman took aim on the eight ball. “Left corner pocket.”

He lifted his chin, knowing his brother would sink the shot. It never failed that when Roman hit him up to shoot pool, enough time had elapsed for Har to forget how damn good Roman was at it. He was so good, Har often wondered why they hadn’t called him Hustler.

The ball fell into the pocket with a thunk, and Har set his cue on the table. “You done kickin’ my ass?”

Roman smiled. “What can I say? You’re one of the few who can give me a decent run for my money. Speakin’ of, you said best of three but not what was at stake.”

He lifted his chin. “Damn right. About time I did something right today. Nice games, man. Find someone else to hustle around here.”

Stephanie had hardly moved from her perch, but she looked cute as hell all curled up. Her hair cascaded over one side of her head and her face was bent toward the sketch book, a small furrow between her brows as she concentrated.

Sandy had left the area, which allowed Har to settle close beside her and look at her drawing.

His breath froze at the sight. On the page she’d drawn his house with a wolf and a bear in the front yard. The wolf had its fangs bared and the bear was crouched ready to pounce on something outside the drawing.

He exhaled quietly before he spoke. “You don’t like someone breaking into my place, do you, sweetheart?”

She chuckled. “I guess not. Didn’t even realize it was your house until I started in on the bear. Funny how the creative mind channels the subconscious, huh?”

With care, he took the sketch from her hands along with the pencil and set them aside. Then he yanked her legs over his lap toward the empty end of the couch before he twisted to his side and shifted them both lower. He pulled the blanket lower on her so he could touch her arms.

She smiled up at him, and he lowered his lips to hers. She ran her fingers into his hair, opening her mouth to his and he kissed her for a long time. He didn’t think they had ever made out before, and it was more enjoyable than with other women. Her hands moved to his shoulders and stroked.

He shoved the blanket to the floor and slipped his hand under her shirt. The silky feel of her skin turned him on and he deepened a kiss that was already deep. To his surprise, he found her satiny bra had a front clasp. With a low growl, he flicked it open and palmed her warm, soft breast.

His hips moved with a mind of their own. She broke the kiss and his tongue traced a line up her neck while his fingers pinched her nipple.

He expected her to go wild for him as she had before, but her body went stiffer than a new deck of cards.

He pulled his head away from her and gazed into fearful eyes.

Chapter 22 Getting Out of His Life

Stephanie

MAKING OUT WITH HAR was like nothing else, but feeling his hips jerk against mine forced my mind back to us being in the common room. Key word being ‘common.’ I turned my head and saw at least four men at the bar and my entire body went stiff.

I felt his head lift from the crook of my neck and turned to see him staring at me.

“What?” he breathed.

“No, Har. Not out here.”

His eyes narrowed. “My brothers don’t care, baby.”

“Four of them are on their cell phones right now. I don’t need to be on the internet again because someone has pics of me in this position.”

His eyes flared. “Not one of us would do shit like that, Combes.”

“That’s not a chance I can take. First time, it’s not my fault. The second time, who’s to blame then?”

He frowned. “My brothers wouldn’t do that shit. I know it.”

“Like you knew two of them wouldn’t pit a woman against you? Like you knew a woman couldn’t possibly get into your home with her brother in tow?”

He knifed off me roaring, “Fuck!”

I stood and hustled to his room. His words, from weeks ago, about ‘if things went bad we would reassess’ came to me, but there wasn’t a need to reassess shit as far as I was concerned. Him throwing a tantrum because I wasn’t comfortable was not cool.

Thankfully, when I changed earlier I’d shoved my uniform in the duffel, and the only thing I needed was my jewelry box. I stood staring at the safe. When he insisted on putting it there, my instincts told me that was a bad idea.

“Fuck it,” I whispered, grabbing my keys, phone, and bag.

Sandy halted midway down the corridor and I knew she was headed to find me. Her eyes fell on my bag and she shook her head. “Honey, you both need to cool it.”

I shook my head.

For some crazy reason, his words from this morning about how Wycliffe was coming after me at the worst time for him replayed in my mind. I had thought Har needed to cool it then, and I realized getting out of his life would help both of us.

I tried not to frown at Sandy. “I’ll cool it just fine where I’m headed. He needs to focus on this