The smallest spark can start an
inferno!
Gage and Tinker’s story is FINALLY here!
Reaper’s Fire NOW AVAILABLE!
Blurb
New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde
returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage
and Tinker…
The club comes first.
I’ve lived by those words my whole
life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My
Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met
her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard
it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I
can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman,
another job, another fight just ahead.
Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying
to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the
clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve
still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this
woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around
him.
I’m coming for you, Tinker.
Soon.
Excerpt
“I can’t believe how late it is,”
Tinker said, yawning, and I realized the movie had ended. Now she stretched
upward, the blanket falling to her waist as her boobs pushed forward.
God, how much should a man be
expected to take?
I should’ve stayed away from her
completely—that’d been the plan—but something had snapped when I’d seen her out
in the courtyard. Couldn’t remember the last time I’d met a woman like Tinker.
She was smart and sexy and funny, and she worked damned hard to take care of
her family and business. Sure, I wanted to fuck her—you’d have to be gay not
to—but I respected her, too.
“I should probably get going,” she
said, offering me a smile so sweet I wanted to bite her lips. “I like to check
on Dad before going to sleep, and I’ve got to be up early in the morning. I’ve
got to package orders for the courier tomorrow—if they aren’t ready by two
p.m., I’m screwed.”
I considered rolling over on top
of her. Pushing her down into the couch cushions, shoving my leg between hers,
and showing her what a real man feels like.
“Cooper?” she asked, looking
confused. I blinked a couple times, forcing myself to focus on her face.
“I’m going to watch another one,”
I told her, because I’m a goddamn masochist. “You sure you’re ready to head
out?”
She frowned, and I could almost
read her thoughts. Yes, she should leave. But she wanted me as much as I wanted
her. And yeah, I realize that makes me sound like an egotistical ass, but this
wasn’t my first rodeo. I saw the lust in her eyes, and the way she licked her
lips and stared at my mouth. This wasn’t a one-way street, not even close.
“I guess I could stay a little
longer,” she whispered. Christ, she was so sweet and soft. I wanted to bite her
even more now. Suck that pouty lower lip into my mouth and shove a finger up
her ass.
Break her.
You’re one sick fuck.
Why yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing.
I managed to control the urge,
catching her hand instead, giving it a friendly squeeze like some kind of
pathetic tool. Her fingers tightened on mine, then she pulled away and snuggled
back down under the blanket, raising her feet to rest on the coffee table. I
grabbed the remote and clicked through the menu.
Tomorrow I’d do my job. I’d fuck
Talia and spy on Marsh and look for any kind of weakness that might end this
situation, the faster the better. Tonight, though . . . Tonight I’d pretend
this wasn’t a waste of time.
Goddamn, but my dick hurt.
The next hour was torture.
Tinker sat next to me, all cute
and classy and absolutely refusing to make any kind of eye contact. I don’t
know how she felt, but to me the sexual tension hanging in the air was thick
and heavy. I kept thinking about her hand in mine—small, but strong. The hand
of someone who knew how to work hard. So far as I knew, Talia had never held
down a job, let alone supported herself.
The couch shifted, and I glanced
over to find Tinker sliding deeper into the cushions, drawing the blanket up to
her chin. Our legs were maybe six inches apart. She shifted again, and then her
hand bumped mine under the blanket. She jerked it back quickly, and I caught
the hint of a flush on her cheeks. That was another thing I liked about her—her
skin was so pale that I could see every hint of arousal.
Grabbing her hand, I pulled it
over to rest on my thigh. This was a really bad idea, so I pointedly refused to
think it through. Her hand tensed at first, then relaxed into my strength. My
cock swelled against the fabric of my jeans, just inches from her fingers—it’d
be so easy to push her hand toward it, wrap it around my painfully swollen
dick, and just go to town.
Tinker’s fingers gave a quick
squeeze—almost more of a spasm—and I bit back a groan.
Yeah, okay. Really, really bad idea. I should get off the
couch and shut this shit down right now, because I couldn’t afford to blow
things with Talia just yet. Instead I found myself leaning toward Tinker,
bumping shoulders.
God.
I’d grown a pussy. No other
explanation, because I couldn’t figure out why the hell else an adult man would
sit holding hands under a damned blanket like a kid.
Have you heard?
Reaper’s Property
by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!
Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY
$3.99 (normally $7.99)
Author’s Note:
This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This
independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short,
“Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A
with the author.
About the Author
Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author
and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in
Idaho.
GIVEAWAY
Signed copy of Reaper’s Fire
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