Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

Hannah "You must be Hannah, Daisy Jane told me alota 'bout you," He says this as he peruses my body without making it too visible but noticeable enough to get his point across. This biker is definitely checking me out in front of my kid. "Well, that's just great for me and a shame for you because she never mentioned you," I point out straight-faced. Eyes narrowing, he stands there staring at me, not saying a thing. Ring covered fingers lift to rub aimlessly on the dark scruff of his jaw when I don't drop my own. What will it be like to touch a rough chiseled face like his? It has been a while since I've felt a man's rough skin against my fingertips. There's no reason why I deprive myself of something I could have so quickly. Maybe it's because I had it, and I allowed myself to get sidetracked by it. Or solely because I spent so many years trying to please a man that didn't want me. Truth is, there

Hannah I know my mouth gaps open, I feel it. I have to close it and open then close it again before I scowl. I'm not only affronted, but the blush creeping up my neck is the exact answer this arrogant and way too knowledgeable biker wants to hear. It's a shameful thing admitting to myself that I haven't been fucked in a long time. The truth is, after Landon, no guy has held my interest beyond a day. Those days were two, one with Raine Donovan, the local hot chef. He was my poor attempt at a relationship. When my colleague, Lisle Donelly, who might I add is fifty-eight, stated that she was getting fucked four times a week, I needed to know if I still had what it took. It didn't end well. Nearly a year and a half after that was the town playboy Deputy Gregory Deane, Kanla's deputy sheriff. He wasn't anything to sneeze about, blond hair, light brown eyes with a rippled six-pack was something women drooled over alone, add in the badge, and who c

River The cooking roster is a big thing in the club. Who we put on it is what makes it such a big deal. It takes a huge amount of trust to allow someone to cook our food. So to be on the roster means that you are a full brother and our woman even if you're not fully patched in, it's still a big deal. Our women take it very seriously. We don't call our females bitches like other motorcycle clubs. We always refer to them as 'woman'. They start off as kid, or dumb names while they earn their respect just like the brothers. But to be called 'woman' or by your club nickname is the highest honor. The brothers don't all fuck the women, and the women aren't just here to look after us. They train like the brothers, some kill better than the brothers, like Mercy. They get important ranks just like the brothers, like our National road captain, After. The only thing is we claim the women, some brothers, and our women prefer exclusivity and others prefer variety. At the end of it all, we

HannahThere are many ways to spend a Sunday morning after church in Kanla. Lunch with family, breakfast at Ducky-Lows diner or a nice long swim at the public pool. I would've done all of those today if Jo was around, but today is Tara's birthday. So, after church this morning I dropped her off at her six-year-old friend's place two blocks from our house. Not sure what I was doing today except spending it with DJ. I was expecting her around ten. What I don't expect coming home as I park my Camry in the driveway is the two men I find at the back of my yard nailing planks to my tree. I jump out of the car kicking the door with my three-inch heels. The sound of my hurried steps have both men turning around. The light grey knee-length pencil dress which is one of the few nice dresses I kept after my failed marriage rides up with my quick pace. "Good morning Hannah." I recognize the younger biker from yesterday. Today he's wearing a short-sleeve grey tee with his army tag hanging

HannahI swear I'm so going to regret this." "Good regrets Nay." She pats my back as her denim covered long legs take her outside. Leaving me to my decent sized open plan kitchen. It's not the first time I think 'fuck I love my friend.' Grimacing, I stare hard at the yellow and red flower wallpaper. I need to paint this house. Unfortunately, that can't happen anytime soon. A strong reminder that not only am I always just getting by but I don't really have anything to offer in a relationship. I got no love besides for my kid, no money, a used up body and a new mortgage. The sound of a car driving up my driveway has me checking out the window as my stomach does a flip. I huff in frustration seeing Gregory Deane step outside his car and walk toward my back yard to shake River's hand. Rushing around the kitchen, I fetch the roasted chicken from the cooling rack, holding it with oven mitts. I don't like the fact that Gregory is here. Not sure why he assumes that he can