All Chapters of Ruin Me, Biker Alphas : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

~Valerie~My thighs press together. Quivering. Soaked. Sticky. I exhale slowly, my body trembling as I lean deeper into the car seat.Rikky’s gaze shifts toward me, her amber eyes scanning my face for a second as she drives, then returning back to the road, but she doesn’t know.No. She doesn’t know the nasty, filthy thoughts in my mind right now. She doesn’t know that her friend is dripping in a fucking mess, she doesn’t know that my panties are creamily soaked right here in her red deadbeat truck.But I can’t help it. I can’t help myself.It is fucking wrong. Fuck, it is wrong, wrong, wrong.My tits are aching, my nipples are hard and straining against the stretchy tank top I’m wearing. I can smell my arousal despite the thickness of the jean shorts I’m wearing, even as the rush of afternoon air blows through the open windows.I can still smell myself.Soft. Musky.I hope Rikky won’t notice. I pray she’s too busy thinking about arriving at the bar early to notice my nipples.There’s

~Valerie~My muscles clench tight.Everything in me is fucking taut and on edge. I can’t breathe properly, my heart is pounding too fast and too loud for me to even catch up with.Desire pools in my stomach, hot and fast. My skin burns, prickling, scalding, like if he doesn’t touch me soon I’d die.It’s too damn much.I need him.I want him inside me.My breath hitches, my shoulders press against the door. My tits thrust out, round, full, ripe.Gods, I need to touch myself. I can’t… can’t survive anymore. I didn’t know I was going to be this hot in his presence. I didn’t know I’d be spiraling out of control just after seeing him.Just one close encounter. One fucking look and he called my name, now I’m like a sex-lust puppy. My nipples are poking out, my tits are aching and feeling heavier, heat dampens in my core seeping down in slick stream.I’m stuttering and panting, lust-drunk and breathless.The way my name rolls off his tongue, slow, intense, raw, fuck, it feels like sin.I wan

~Valerie~ My face is pressed against the cold tile, and I’m pretty sure I look like a fucking wreck. The chill of the floor should be helping, should be cooling the fire under my skin, but it isn’t. Every time I close my eyes, I see those gray eyes, darker than the smoke in the bar, colder than the winter air he carries around. He knew. He didn’t have to say a word. The way his nose flared, the way his gaze dropped to the mess I’d made of myself... he smelled me. He smelled my need, my sin, my absolute pathetic desperation for him. And then he just walked away. “Fuck,” I whisper into the dust on the floor. My voice is thrashed, scratchy. I’m nineteen. I’m supposed to be in control. I’m supposed to be the one pulling the strings, walking in here and claiming his space, but one grunt. One, “Valerie,” from his throat, and I’m a puddle. Literally. I roll over, my back hitting the crates of alcohol. A bottle of bourbon clinks against my shoulder, mocking me. Wipe the dust, V

~Ronan~ I watch her walk away, and my hands are fucking shaking. I keep them under the table so Evander can’t see, but my knuckles are white as I grip my own thighs. Her ass is bouncing with every step she takes in those tiny denim shorts. Every time she moves, the fabric rides up, showing the soft, pale gold skin of her legs. I want to stand up, grab her by the waist, and bend her right over the nearest table. I want to rip those shorts off her and show her exactly what a real Alpha is. I want to hear her scream my name while I’m balls deep in her, marking her so everyone in this shithole knows she belongs to me. But I can’t. She’s too young. She’s the daughter of a man I called a brother, a man who died because a mess I got myself in. I’ve spent years paying for her schools, her clothes, her quiet little life, all to keep her away from the sin I live in every day. There’s a secret buried in that pampered life of hers, a truth that keeps her untouchable. If I touch her, I break ev

~Valerie~The club is quiet in a heavy way. It’s barely noon, and the air is thick with the scent of floor wax, and the faint, lingering ghost of last night’s whiskey. The neon signs are humming, but the music hasn't started yet. It’s just us, the staff moving like shadows through the dim light of the main floor.I’m on my hands and knees, scrubbing the base of the bar stools, but my mind isn't on the dirt. It’s on those two powerful men. I shift my weight, and the fabric of my shorts rides up even higher. I went all in today. I wanted to look like the kind of trouble that keeps a man awake at night, sweating through his sheets. I’m wearing a white ribbed crop top that’s at least two sizes too small. The hem barely covers the underside of my breasts, leaving the heavy, rounded swell of them nearly spilling out every time I breathe. It’s thin, practically transparent under the harsh cleaning lights, and I didn’t bother with a bra. My nipples are hard, pressing visible points against t