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Wicked Man (MF)

Forgotten Rebels MC

Evernight Publishing

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 29,255
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They say you can never go home, but Abbott has traveled a long way to find the love of her life again. She and Chadwick “Wick” Edwards had been high school sweethearts, but when he got the opportunity to become a member of The Forgotten Rebels Motorcycle Club, he left without saying good-bye.

Wick knows he screwed up by leaving Abbott behind, but he honestly thought she’d be better off without him. Little did he know that out of heartbreak she turned to the first man to show her kindness…only to become a survivor of mental and physical abuse.

Wherever she goes, her tormentor finds her. After ten years she’s tired of running and so goes back to Wick. Their passion sparks and love rekindles, but when Abbott is targeted, Wick must do very wicked things to make sure she stays alive.

Be Warned: public exhibition

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Chadwick sat with his head bent as he read some piece of paper. Larger than life. Beautiful. Gruff. And she could barely believe she was looking at him. That this moment was real. His hair was still the same beautiful shade of brown, but a little longer since it brushed his shoulders. He seemed bigger. More muscular. His leather cut fit his body like a second skin. She closed the door behind her with a soft click then waited for him to acknowledge her.

“What is it?” he asked. The hand over his mouth muffled his words slightly.

She didn’t answer.

He lifted his head, and she watched the exasperation disappear instantly as their gazes met. Held. He blinked, as if not sure what he was seeing. Desire pooled in her stomach. The need to hold him. Touch him. Kiss him, because almost overwhelming.

“Abbott?” he asked softly. Hesitantly.

“Hello, Chadwick,” she managed to say through bone dry lips. The butterflies in her belly were doing somersaults. The high expectation she’d had for this very moment rolled together with her nerves, and she wasn’t sure what to do. She didn’t know how to stand, or what do to with her hands.

He stood up so fast, the chair rolled away from him to crash into the wall. She jumped, and her heart accelerated with a slight thrill that shot down to her pussy. Wetness flooded her panties from his forceful display. “Am I dreaming this?”

She shook her head. “No. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

He didn’t say anything, not for a long moment. His blue eyes stayed frozen upon her face. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. She almost thought he didn’t even breathe.

“Who let you in?” he finally asked.

It was not the romantic words she was hoping for. He simply sat there, staring at her, and it made her a little nervous.

“No one,” she replied and hugged herself in a protective gesture. “Am I bothering you? Should I go?”

“Don’t you dare fucking move,” he said tersely. “I’ve been picturing you across from me for eleven years. I’m trying to determine if I’m hallucinating and if I am, I don’t want the fucking antidote.”

Her heart melted. She knew exactly how he felt.

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