~Editor's Pick~
She was sent to kill me. Instead of returning the favor, I take the bait.
These empty roads are what keep me sane. No debts. No attachments. Until she crashes into my life full of unsated vengeance. And misguided violence.
Her father’s tool. A rival MC President.
The life I escaped that stole my peace even as she gives it back to me. The feral princess I shouldn’t want who has tried to kill me two…three times, now?
But damn, she’s sweet when she does.
They’ll come for her, and they’ll come for me. But even though my patch reads NOMAD, I’m not alone. My brothers will make sure she’s safe, that she has vengeance for the life her father stole from her.
I used to be one of them. For her, I’ll rejoin the life I left.
I’ll become one of the Sons of Sin once more.
Be Warned: public exhibition, orgies
VIOLENT DEVOTION is a NOMAD MC romance by Jade Marshall and Sofia Aves set in the SONS OF SIN MC series.
The hallway is quieter than the bar. Muted music and old floorboards. A buzzing fluorescent light that should’ve been replaced years ago.
Walker stands near the far end instead of entering the restroom, as if expecting company.
Without turning around, he speaks. “I was wondering how long it’d take.” His voice is deep, calm, and not surprised in the least.
I stop walking. “Excuse me?”
He turns slowly, and those grey-blue eyes settle on mine with unnerving steadiness. “You’ve been watching me all night.”
“So have you.”
“I watch everyone.”
I lean one shoulder against the wall. “Maybe I wanted you to notice.”
One dark eyebrow lifts. “Maybe?”
Silence stretches between us, not awkward. Measured. He studies me with the patience of someone who doesn’t need to rush to understand people. Up close, the difference in our size is almost laughable. I’d have to tilt my head just to keep eye contact.
He could probably pick me up with one arm if he wanted. The thought needles under my skin, sharp and unwelcome. And worse, it distracts me.
“You always follow strange men into hallways?” he asks.
“Only the interesting ones.”
“And what makes me interesting?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
The corner of his mouth moves slightly, almost a smile. Almost. “You’ve got a funny way of introducing yourself.”
“I haven’t introduced myself.”
“No.”
“You first.”
He considers me for another long second. “Walker.”
I pretend his name is just a word, nothing more. “Poppy.”
His gaze lingers. “Poppy.” The way he says it sounds less like a question and more like he’s committing it to memory. “You from around here?” he asks.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“You could.”
“But you wouldn’t answer.”
“No.”
I laugh softly. “So, you’re always this mysterious?”
“No.”
“When are you not?”
“When people stop asking questions.”
There’s dry humor beneath the words. Completely unexpected. “So, what happens,” I ask, “if I keep asking them?”
His eyes meet mine again. “I’ll keep answering exactly like this.”
A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it. This was supposed to be easy. Get close, gain his trust, and finish the job. Instead, I’m in a dim hallway, trading barbs with the man I’m supposed to kill. And somehow, he’s the first person who’s made me genuinely smile in a long fucking time.
I let myself lean in, close enough to catch the scent of whiskey and leather. My voice drops, silk-wrapped steel. “You think a little girl like me could handle you?” I choose my words carefully, making sure to grab his attention.
His eyes narrow, sliding down my body with the slow, deliberate hunger of a man who’s spent years taking what he wants. I see the calculation, the way he weighs me—tiny beside him, my head barely reaching his shoulder. His mouth curls, almost cruel.
“Doubt it,” he rumbles, voice low and rough. “You’d break.”
I smile, sharp and bright, all promise and threat. “You’d be surprised.”
A beat passes, tension coiling, thick as smoke. My pulse thrums in my throat as he moves, one step, then another, until the wall bites into my back and his body blocks out everything but him. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t need to. His hand fists in my hair, tilting my chin up, and then his mouth claims mine, hot and demanding, nothing gentle about it. He kisses like a man starved, like he wants to devour me, and I answer with teeth, with tongue, with every dark and wicked part of myself I usually keep caged.
He tastes like heat and violence, like danger I want to swallow whole. His size devours me, makes me reckless, untouchable. I arch closer, pressing my breasts into the hard line of him, daring him to lose control. The kiss is savage, hungry, and brutally perfect. When he finally tears away, my breath is shattered, my lips bruised, and I know, no matter how dangerous, I want more.
“Take me home,” I say.
“No. If you want a ride on the wild side, you’ll get no bed, no sweet words. I’ll fuck you dirty and walk away, that’s all.”
My damn knees tremble at the vision his words describe. “Please,” I say huskily, that single word surprising us both. He grabs my hand and pulls me out a side door into the alley.
“Tell me to stop now. This is your only chance.”
