Read Online The Biker's Protection - Book 3 (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Ghosts of the Prairie Motorcycle Club) by Regina Fox - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Regina Fox
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fucks like you do,” he purred.
“That’s right baby. I never want another cock inside of me.”
“Oh, baby. You’re so damn sexy.”
“I’ll do whatever you tell me to do,” she said.
“Good.”
“Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”
He grabbed her hair and gently pulled back. “I’m going to hold you down and make you come. Can you handle what I’m about to do?”
“I can fucking handle anything. Tell me what you like.”
Their moment was jarringly interrupted though with yet another knock on the door. In their pause, they could hear the noises of a police radio. It sounded like the sheriff was at the door. Foley answered the door.
There on the porch was Sheriff Doug and Savannah’s stepmother.
“Hello,” she said.
“Carolyn,” I responded.
“Good evening,” said the sheriff in an extra chipper voice. “I understand you called earlier saying someone had been ringing your doorbell.”
“Yes,” said Savannah.
“Well, I recognized your number, and I know you said never mind, but we did a drive by anyway. I found this individual vandalizing some vehicles out front. Would you step outside and take a look? We caught her slashing a tire, but we will need you to identify any damage that may have existed prior to our catching her.”
Foley pushed past the sheriff who stepped aside to let him by. Savannah followed Foley. His bike appeared untouched but when they found sugar around the gas cap of Savannah’s car, they checked again. All of Savannah’s tires were destroyed. She was pretty sure she had had it with this woman.
“You bitch!” Savannah said.
“Still thinking you want to just let it go?” Foley pressured. “Sheriff, are you aware this woman’s cohort, Paul Kerley verbally attacked Savannah at the grocery store today?”
“What does that have to do with me?” protested Carolyn Payton.
“We’re aware,” said the sheriff. “Are you pressing charges against this individual for vandalism and trespassing?”
“And harassment,” added Savannah.
“I’m not sure why a restraining order isn’t in place against these two, Savannah,” said the sheriff. “But we have footage from the grocery story of Kerley menacing you, and we’ve caught this woman in the act. You have plenty of grounds to swear out an order against both of these two.”
“Can she do it in the morning?” asked Foley. “I was going to scold her thoroughly after you leave.”
“Whore,” fired Carolyn Payton.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, bitch,” scowled Foley. “Or you will deal with me.”
“Wouldn’t mind,” she smiled. “But look at her. Ha ha, you wore your jammies to the door.”
Savannah realized that her stepmother was right. She burned from head to toe.
The sheriff put the cuffs on Savannah’s irate and very-verbal stepmother. They maneuvered her into the squad car. Foley and Savannah went back inside to the house and closed the door on the world. He swept her up in his arms and carried her back into the movie room. The sofa was plenty wide enough for the two of them.
Savannah burned for him. She was just about to make a firefighter joke when his tongue in her ear knocked it out of her memory. The tip of his hot wet tongue had an invisible but powerful connection to the deepest part of her. The more he lathered the hollow of her ear, the more she ached to be filled by him.
“You like being fucked hard?” he asked. “I’m going to fuck you hard, take you, and fuck you real hard against the wall, and fuck your brains out.”
“Oh, baby, you’re turning me on!”
Curling up with Foley was like curling up to an oak tree. He was so much taller than she, and broader, more solid. She propped up her knee onto his iron-hard thigh, making her center so vulnerable to him; accessible to him. She grinded her soft, hungry flesh against the thick, rough texture of his black jeans. She writhed against Foley’s body as her mouth feasted on his.
“I’m going to wrap
“That’s right baby. I never want another cock inside of me.”
“Oh, baby. You’re so damn sexy.”
“I’ll do whatever you tell me to do,” she said.
“Good.”
“Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”
He grabbed her hair and gently pulled back. “I’m going to hold you down and make you come. Can you handle what I’m about to do?”
“I can fucking handle anything. Tell me what you like.”
Their moment was jarringly interrupted though with yet another knock on the door. In their pause, they could hear the noises of a police radio. It sounded like the sheriff was at the door. Foley answered the door.
There on the porch was Sheriff Doug and Savannah’s stepmother.
“Hello,” she said.
“Carolyn,” I responded.
“Good evening,” said the sheriff in an extra chipper voice. “I understand you called earlier saying someone had been ringing your doorbell.”
“Yes,” said Savannah.
“Well, I recognized your number, and I know you said never mind, but we did a drive by anyway. I found this individual vandalizing some vehicles out front. Would you step outside and take a look? We caught her slashing a tire, but we will need you to identify any damage that may have existed prior to our catching her.”
Foley pushed past the sheriff who stepped aside to let him by. Savannah followed Foley. His bike appeared untouched but when they found sugar around the gas cap of Savannah’s car, they checked again. All of Savannah’s tires were destroyed. She was pretty sure she had had it with this woman.
“You bitch!” Savannah said.
“Still thinking you want to just let it go?” Foley pressured. “Sheriff, are you aware this woman’s cohort, Paul Kerley verbally attacked Savannah at the grocery store today?”
“What does that have to do with me?” protested Carolyn Payton.
“We’re aware,” said the sheriff. “Are you pressing charges against this individual for vandalism and trespassing?”
“And harassment,” added Savannah.
“I’m not sure why a restraining order isn’t in place against these two, Savannah,” said the sheriff. “But we have footage from the grocery story of Kerley menacing you, and we’ve caught this woman in the act. You have plenty of grounds to swear out an order against both of these two.”
“Can she do it in the morning?” asked Foley. “I was going to scold her thoroughly after you leave.”
“Whore,” fired Carolyn Payton.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouth, bitch,” scowled Foley. “Or you will deal with me.”
“Wouldn’t mind,” she smiled. “But look at her. Ha ha, you wore your jammies to the door.”
Savannah realized that her stepmother was right. She burned from head to toe.
The sheriff put the cuffs on Savannah’s irate and very-verbal stepmother. They maneuvered her into the squad car. Foley and Savannah went back inside to the house and closed the door on the world. He swept her up in his arms and carried her back into the movie room. The sofa was plenty wide enough for the two of them.
Savannah burned for him. She was just about to make a firefighter joke when his tongue in her ear knocked it out of her memory. The tip of his hot wet tongue had an invisible but powerful connection to the deepest part of her. The more he lathered the hollow of her ear, the more she ached to be filled by him.
“You like being fucked hard?” he asked. “I’m going to fuck you hard, take you, and fuck you real hard against the wall, and fuck your brains out.”
“Oh, baby, you’re turning me on!”
Curling up with Foley was like curling up to an oak tree. He was so much taller than she, and broader, more solid. She propped up her knee onto his iron-hard thigh, making her center so vulnerable to him; accessible to him. She grinded her soft, hungry flesh against the thick, rough texture of his black jeans. She writhed against Foley’s body as her mouth feasted on his.
“I’m going to wrap