CHROME
With a Heart
Forged in Steele
Boomer Steele is big. He’s bad. He’s the
Retribution MC pres. He’s been dealt the worst hand imaginable and bears the
scars inside and out. Not that anyone knows it. He’s watched his younger
brother and sister hook up and hitch up with the loves of their lives, and now
he’s the last Steele standing alone. Maybe he should keep it that way.
Then one
feisty honey makes him feel, gets in his grill, pisses him off.
She goes by
the name of Rayce. And that’s exactly what she does on her motocross bike when
she’s not busy getting her hands dirty with her fellow grease monkeys as the
only female mechanic at Stone’s Garage. She’s into fixing bikes, racing hers,
and making Boomer’s life a living hell just for the fun of it. Oh, and she
hates being treated like a girl.
Sparks flying?
That’s an understatement where these two are concerned. Yet when Rayce needs a
place to live, and Boomer offers her a room in his house, their unquenchable
attraction wins out over antagonism. Sometimes.
Rayce’s crappy upbringing makes her think love is for stupid fools asking for
heartbreak. She’s not willing to go there for any man.
Not even Boomer Steele.
The
bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Note to readers: this book addresses the issue
of domestic abuse.
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EXCERPT:
The Tattooed Moose was no more than a
noisy, loud, crowded wood shack with a tiny front porch just on the wrong side
of the tracks in downtown Chucktown.
Romance?
Maybe not. But the food was
un-freakin’-believable.
It was a little quieter on the porch
than in the bar, so I snagged the first empty table and got Rayce settled in
her seat before I moved mine right next to her. Large outdoor heaters spaced
between the tables fought off the January chill.
“This okay?” I reached for her hand and
rubbed across her knuckles, smiling when I noticed the engine oil she hadn’t
quite managed to scrub off.
“Is there beer and food?”
“Some of the best of both, I
guaran-damn-tee it.”
“Then it’s okay by me.” Pulling my hand
up to her face, she gently licked and kissed the center of my palm.
I kid you fucking not, the feel of her
lips made my cock go full throttle just like that.
This softer side of Rayce was something
else.
The seductive side?
Goddamn hypnotic and horny as hell.
I returned the favor of turning her on
by licking and nuzzling her neck while we waited for our orders. I was bound
and determined to give her that orgasm tonight. Hopefully in my bed, but I
could work it out in the truck, or hell, even in the nearest deserted alley.
Rayce moaned under her breath when I
bit down on her earlobe, and I decided that would do for now.
She looked at me with wide, dazed,
dazzling eyes. She hadn’t even noticed the beers had arrived.
Job
well done on my part.
I pecked her on the lips then lifted my
glass.
She broke out of the sex-spell and
muttered a low string of words I didn’t quite catch but went along the lines of
evil man . . . all worked up . . . sits
there smirking.
Then she clinked my glass with a,
“Bottoms up.”
“We can get to that later too, if you
want.” I took a glug of beer.
She choked on hers, hitting me on the
shoulder.
After she managed a swallow without
spewing beer across the table, she turned to me. “How can you just say stuff
like that?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about it?”
I shrugged.
“But I haven’t—” She shook her head and
lifted her drink again.
I scooted closer and whispered in her
ear, “Haven’t had a hard cock inside your perfect ripe ass?”
She shivered as my lips caressed her
earlobe, and she swallowed hard.
“I’ll take that as a no.” Laying my
palm on her thigh, I skimmed up it until I butted the center seam of her jeans.
“Some women think it’s really hot, especially with the piercings. Really gets
’em going.”
Her nose skimmed my cheek as she turned
her head. Her lips nearly collided with mine. “And just how many women have you
done it with?”
“Well, that doesn’t matter, princess,
because none of them mattered.” That
may have sounded crass but it was true. I’d had my fair share of fucks—none of
them lasted.
My lips brushed hers. “But you matter,
make no mistake about it. It’s just a thought if you wanna give it a shot. I’d
make sure you like is so much you come crawling back for more.” Sitting back, I
crossed my arms over my chest, my big thighs spread in obvious invitation.
All for her and only her.
She stared at me, her cheeks growing
more and more flushed until, groaning, she buried her head in her arms.
I gave a rough low laugh, reaching over
to caress the back of her neck and the tiny buttercup tat.
She peeked out at me. “You’re a very
naughty man.”
“Your naughty man.” I kissed her cheek
and she sat up with a huff.
Author
Bio:
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a
breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning
with In His Command.
Her latest endeavors include the Carolina
Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the
world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her
erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen
for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art
school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in
between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the
sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social
media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez,
Corvisiero Literary
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