All Chapters of The Devil's Silver (The Road Devils MC 2): Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

“I never thought I would know. I never believed that I’d find love, and sure as hell not with an MC guy. In my experience with them, they were all womanizing bastards and cheating liars, and the best place for a motorcycle man was light years away from me.”“But Scars was different?”“Yes and no. I mean, yes because he’s him, and him is pretty damn amazing and unique. But the truth is that sometimes, you don’t see what’s right in front of you because you’re so busy looking back. I let my past shape my perceptions and when I did that, I blindfolded myself. I had painted every one of Wolf’s brothers with the same dirty brush – including Scars – and it was up to me to open my mind to change. As soon as I got to know the guys, I saw how wrong I was about them. Sure, they’re fucking rough around the edges but so am I. Very few of them have any higher education, but neither do I. Most of them come from bad backgrounds, and I do too. You get me? I soon figured out that I had way more things

Three weeks laterOn the fourth day of the New Year, Silver woke with a start, his throat closed and his heart pounding. Yet again. He was barely breathing, and that feeling of suffocation was sadly, sickly familiar.For those horrible and never-ending six fucking years in jail, he hadn’t felt like he could get enough air. It had had to do with the bars and bells and mind-numbing routine, of course… but it had much, much more to do with the fact that he’d lost any and all control over his own body, and in the worst possible way. Only once and only for about twenty minutes – but it had been more than enough.God, he remembered their weight pressing down on him like it was yesterday. He was sure that he’d never forget the sour mixture of emotions that he’d felt in those moments: helpless, hopeless, small, pathetic. Panicked and wanting to die. Angry and embarrassed and humiliated. Shamed and ashamed.“Motherfuckers,” he said aloud and hearing his own voice brought him fully out of the l

There she sat now in a white blouse, but it was utterly unlike any of the boxy white blouses of late. This one was crisply fitted and cut perfectly and the top two button were open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of white lace and smooth flesh. Her trim navy blue pencil skirt was over the knee but not even remotely modest: it was molded to her incredible body like a second skin and had a tightly-cinched in waist that emphasized her breasts even more, making him wonder if she had a corset on. Peeking out from under the desk were stacked high heels in a deep chestnut brown that made her ankles look delicate and sweetly-curved.It was a polished and professional outfit, tasteful and expensive – and the whole effect took his breath away. It left exactly nothing to his imagination or memory, and had the impact of a fucking ten-ton Mac truck.God help me.Silver stared, stared without a word. Truthfully, he had no idea what to say. And the gorgeous, amazing woman sitting at her desk just s

She gave a small cry at his words, and he almost lost his resolve then and there. God, he wanted to slide that smart, expensive skirt higher, higher still, slip his fingers between her legs, find her soaked heat. He ached to lower her panties down and off, then hook his arms under her splayed knees and lift her hips off the desk. He longed to raise her to his lips and feast on her musky, sweet center, just lick and stroke and suck until she screamed his name and shattered under his mouth.But that would all be a gigantic fucking mistake.No. No, it wouldn’t.Yes. Yes, it would, asshole. Now do it.“Yes,” she said, her voice molten with abandon. “On your mouth, Silver.”He paused, watched her as she shamelessly started to raise her own skirt, exposing her generous golden thighs. He saw a quick flash of white lace between her legs, smelled her wild honey arousal and knew that he had to bring the hammer down now, because he was seconds away from doing exactly what she’d asked for.“You’r

Brian was staring down at her and she knew that he’d noticed the top two buttons of her blouse undone, her snug little skirt, her high heels. He ran his gaze over her smoky eye makeup, her dangly earrings, her lustrous-now-messy hair and his lip curled up in disgust.“Jesus Christ,” he said, the words dripping with venom. “Look at you. You look like a fucking whore. Here I thought I’d gotten rid of that side of you, shown you the right way to dress. I spent fucking years training you and look at you now.”She held her breath as with one hand he pulled her blouse down over her shoulders, exposing the lace of her bra between her breasts.“Are you a whore again, Jolene?” he asked in a quiet tone, the silken, dangerous one that he used just before the storm was unleashed. “Showing off your body for every prick with a prick around this place? Fucking men on this desk? Having one-night-stands with assholes in a bar?”She flinched as he mentioned some of her behavior in passing, kind of. But