Read Online CURSED - CHOSEN FEW MC ROMANCE: BOOK ONE by Nessa Connor - Free Book Online
Authors: Nessa Connor
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Audra her own room. He and Wrench shared the adjoining room on one side, Bobby and Johnny shared the room on the other side. Hank had headed back to LA.
The motel wasn’t significantly different from any the previous one, although perhaps it was a bit cleaner. It did have a laundry, however, and she took the chance to wash the little clothing she had before even bothering to go to her room where she found an old television, bed, a round chipboard table with two cheap upholstered chairs and dresser, with a broken leg that had one corner propped up on a brick. The bathroom had a shower stall, toilet and sink. Everything you actually needed and more, and less than what you might want.
She tossed her backpack on the bed and sat next to it, kicking off her shoes. She pulled off the sweatshirt Dirk had given her and tossed it over the table, discarding it along with any pretense that she was still the neat and orderly woman she’d been. From poor kid to rich wife to something new and undefined, it had been a rocky road. So far this new existence, although strange and uncertain, maybe dangerous, seemed the most promising. For the moment, at least, she had no illusions. Not like she’d had when she’d married Terrance.
Even then, when she thought back, she knew she’d ignored the warning signs, the twist in her gut that had kept her safe and sane when she’d been on the streets. Her mother had told her it was different, that she would see that her street instincts didn’t suit her new life.
Quieting her doubts, she’d gone ahead and found her mother had been horribly wrong.
From the outside, throwing her lot in with a motorcycle club would hardly seem a sane move, but this time, with few options, she’d followed her gut. So far it was working out as well as anything could. She wasn’t free yet, and maybe never would be entirely free, but she was on the move.
The only thought that made her omniscient gut wince at all was when she tried to imagine what happened after she reached Canada and was on her own again.
She put that aside. Managing the present was more than enough.
Not wanting to think anymore, she picked up the remote intending to dull her brain with some inane television before grabbing a shower and some sleep. Before she pressed the button, there was a knock at the door. When she peeked through the spy hole she saw Dirk.
“What’s happening?” she asked as she opened the door for him. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing at all. I just wanted to check on you… see if you were settled in okay.”
“I’m great.”
He held up a bottle of whiskey and grinned. “I wondered if I could buy you a drink.”
“In that case, come in,” she said, opening the door wider.
“Are you sure? If you’re tired…”
“I’m not sleepy yet. Still unwinding from that gorgeous ride. Talking with you sounds better than watching television.”
He went for the chair, putting the bottle on the table. She shut the door and got the plastic wrapped glasses from the dresser and he poured them each a drink. They toasted each other and she fell under the spell of his gray eyes again. “It was a nice run today, wasn’t it?” he said, dreamy voiced. “I know it was only I-40 through the desert, so there wasn’t much to see, but there’s something magical about an open road when the weather is so perfect. The sensual rumble of the bike over the pavement is fantastic.”
And with your arms wrapped around a real man it’s incredibly intense.
The thought came unbidden, making it impossible to deny that she wanted him, that she was hungry for him. She watched him sip his whisky and more than anything, she wanted him to put his glass down and kiss her. He looked at her over the top of his glass for a moment. Their eyes connected, his gaze penetrating into her brain, his mind probing inside her head and reading her thoughts. That fanciful idea seemed incredibly real. He raised his eyebrows and it
The motel wasn’t significantly different from any the previous one, although perhaps it was a bit cleaner. It did have a laundry, however, and she took the chance to wash the little clothing she had before even bothering to go to her room where she found an old television, bed, a round chipboard table with two cheap upholstered chairs and dresser, with a broken leg that had one corner propped up on a brick. The bathroom had a shower stall, toilet and sink. Everything you actually needed and more, and less than what you might want.
She tossed her backpack on the bed and sat next to it, kicking off her shoes. She pulled off the sweatshirt Dirk had given her and tossed it over the table, discarding it along with any pretense that she was still the neat and orderly woman she’d been. From poor kid to rich wife to something new and undefined, it had been a rocky road. So far this new existence, although strange and uncertain, maybe dangerous, seemed the most promising. For the moment, at least, she had no illusions. Not like she’d had when she’d married Terrance.
Even then, when she thought back, she knew she’d ignored the warning signs, the twist in her gut that had kept her safe and sane when she’d been on the streets. Her mother had told her it was different, that she would see that her street instincts didn’t suit her new life.
Quieting her doubts, she’d gone ahead and found her mother had been horribly wrong.
From the outside, throwing her lot in with a motorcycle club would hardly seem a sane move, but this time, with few options, she’d followed her gut. So far it was working out as well as anything could. She wasn’t free yet, and maybe never would be entirely free, but she was on the move.
The only thought that made her omniscient gut wince at all was when she tried to imagine what happened after she reached Canada and was on her own again.
She put that aside. Managing the present was more than enough.
Not wanting to think anymore, she picked up the remote intending to dull her brain with some inane television before grabbing a shower and some sleep. Before she pressed the button, there was a knock at the door. When she peeked through the spy hole she saw Dirk.
“What’s happening?” she asked as she opened the door for him. “Is something wrong?”
He shook his head. “Nothing at all. I just wanted to check on you… see if you were settled in okay.”
“I’m great.”
He held up a bottle of whiskey and grinned. “I wondered if I could buy you a drink.”
“In that case, come in,” she said, opening the door wider.
“Are you sure? If you’re tired…”
“I’m not sleepy yet. Still unwinding from that gorgeous ride. Talking with you sounds better than watching television.”
He went for the chair, putting the bottle on the table. She shut the door and got the plastic wrapped glasses from the dresser and he poured them each a drink. They toasted each other and she fell under the spell of his gray eyes again. “It was a nice run today, wasn’t it?” he said, dreamy voiced. “I know it was only I-40 through the desert, so there wasn’t much to see, but there’s something magical about an open road when the weather is so perfect. The sensual rumble of the bike over the pavement is fantastic.”
And with your arms wrapped around a real man it’s incredibly intense.
The thought came unbidden, making it impossible to deny that she wanted him, that she was hungry for him. She watched him sip his whisky and more than anything, she wanted him to put his glass down and kiss her. He looked at her over the top of his glass for a moment. Their eyes connected, his gaze penetrating into her brain, his mind probing inside her head and reading her thoughts. That fanciful idea seemed incredibly real. He raised his eyebrows and it
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