Released (Devil's Blaze MC #3)(72)

I walk back to my bike, veering off at the last minute to take a leak. I’ve got my pants unzipped and my dick out when I feel something jab me in the back. I look over my shoulder to see the long end of a shotgun barrel pointed at me. I follow it until my eyes land on a woman holding the gun.

She’s five foot nine, maybe ten. She’s got fiery bronze hair that falls down in waves almost to her elbows. There’s a beat-up-looking brown hat on her head and the clothes she has on are butt-ugly. She could be decent, but it’d take some damn work. She’s curvy. There’s not a skinny thing about her, least of all that ass. She’s got breasts that are just as large and in your face, but perhaps the biggest thing on her right now is her obviously very pregnant belly.

My dick drained, I shake off the excess and slide him back in my pants and zip up as I turn around to face her.

“You always take a whiz on other people’s private property?”

“Only when my dick demands it. You want to lower your gun?”

“Not especially, since you’re trespassing. Who are you?”

“I’m living in the old hunting cabin on Whitler’s Mountain.”

“You look like a mountain man. I didn’t know they sold that cabin.”

I grunt, walking around her to go back to my bike. “You should leave the gun-handling up to your man. It’s dangerous to pull a weapon on a stranger; it could get you killed. You need to think about your baby.”

“I don’t have a man.”

“That watermelon in your stomach would seem to argue that point,” I tell her, my voice straining. I don’t talk that much and I hate the hoarse sound that comes out of my throat sometimes when I speak. It’s a reminder, and I don’t need any f*cking reminders.

I look over at the woman one last time. Her gun is down and she’s rubbing her hand over her stomach. When she looks back up at me, there’s a sadness in her eyes that grabs hold of my attention.

“Looks can be deceiving,” she says.

I shrug and start up my bike. She spares me one last glance and then takes off walking. I watch her almost against my will as she heads back to the old shack I had just been looking at.

Guess I just met Hayden Graham… Pistol’s sister.





Thank you for reading. I hope you all love Skull and Beth's happy ending as much as I do.

Keep reading for a special excerpt from Daryl Banner's hot new contemporary romance, Read My Lips (A College Obsession Romance), followed by an excerpt from Grayson (This is Our Life Series, #1) by F.G. Adams!

xoxo





J





A College Obsession Romance

Daryl Banner





Read My Lips

A College Obsession Romance

#1

Copyright ? 2016 by Daryl Banner

Published by Frozenfyre Publishing

All rights reserved.



No part of this publication may be used or reproduced

in any manner whatsoever, including but not limited to being stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, groups, businesses, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.



Cover Artist : Kari Ayasha from Cover To Cover Designs

Interior Design : Daryl Banner





I went to college to find myself. I didn’t expect to find him.

My whole life was a delicate, artful plan set in place by my delicate, artful family. From my mother, the famous actor of stage and film, to my world-renowned lighting designer father and insufferably perfect sister, I was doomed to a life in the Theatre spotlight.

And so the Lebeau family name was tainted with average, unremarkable, untalented me.

The moment I graduated high school, I enjoyed a few years of disappointing my parents. Thirty-three horrible auditions and two private academies later found me begging them for one last favor: a normal college experience.

It was at this totally normal small-town Texas college that I met him, the muscular, tatted bad-boy who would quickly become my obsession.

His eyes smoldered me with just one look.

His touch awakened the woman inside me.

His breath draw out the inspiration deep in my soul that I did not know was there.

And through his lips, his perfect, plush, kissable lips, I would find my voice at last … the voice that would someday fill a New York City stage, the voice that would set me apart from my tragically perfect family, the voice that would finally break me free …

If only he could hear a word of it.





“I can’t hear you!”

The noise that fills the courtyard of the Quad is deafening. Families bustle about carrying belongings to the dorms. A group of frat boys play Frisbee, their shirtless torsos sweaty and lean. A guy shouts orders from a window up above to his parents below, who can’t make out what he’s saying. A circle of girls chant some sorority thing over and over nearby. Two dudes who look like they haven’t bathed since Daylight Savings began stand on the rim of a fountain with guitars as they serenade the masses, their lyrics lost in the cacophony of shouting and laughter.