Death Lords Motorcycle Club: Annie, Michigan, and Easy (The Motorcycle Clubs Series) Read Online Free Page A

I’m not sure. I only know that when I close my eyes or drift off into fantasyland, I’m there with both of them.
    I might be inexperienced but I’m not stupid. Easy’s obviousness is hard for even me to miss.
    His winks and stares tell me that he’s willing to take me to bed and show me a few things. At the counter, he’s waiting for an answer. If I was a different woman, I’d have thrown down my failed attempts at knitting and sauntered over to both of them and demanded that they take me to bed.
    I shake my head over my own fanciful thoughts. And while I’ve seen a lot of things on the Internet, the truth is I probably don’t have what it takes to satisfy one man let alone two, particularly these two since the rumors are that every licentious act spoken of in the Bible gets acted out at least three times a night in the old granary west of town that the Death Lords call their clubhouse.
    I’d give my right kidney to visit during one of their infamous mashes. Lord, I’d give my right kidney to just sit by Easy a little while longer. I almost came apart when his knee brushed mine.
    As if she can read my mind, Mrs. Wilkins says my name.
    “Yes, ma’am?” I answer.
    “Honey, will you see what the holdup is on the refills?” She gestures toward the table and I remember that Easy was supposed to get a carafe of hot water to fill the empty cups.
    “Of course.” I stand on shaky legs and wipe my hands down the front of my pants. As I walk toward the counter, Easy stares openly at me, making no attempt to disguise his interest. The water is sitting near his hand along with a plate of sandwiches. As I reach for it, he grabs my wrist. It takes little effort for him to pull me toward him. I end up between his long denim-clad legs, my face so close to his I can see that his teeth are white and even. For some lame reason that’s what comes out of my mouth.
    “You have really nice teeth.”
    His grin broadens so that I can see almost all of them. Easy has a wide, very expressive mouth. It matches the rest of him which is also big. I look at his fingers wrapped around my wrist. He could easily span my waist with his hand. I’d like to pick it up and place it on my body to see if I’m right.
    “I’m glad you like them, Little Red.”
    “Little Red?” Self-consciously I run a hand across my rather dull brown hair. Pippa, my boss at the library, has gorgeous red hair and is shaped like a fifties pinup model—big chest, tiny waist, awesome butt. I’m a board. I could wear a shirt unbuttoned to the waist and have zero hint of cleavage.
    He tugs me closer until my legs hit the side of the barstool and then he straightens to his full height of six feet, four inches. His body rubs against the front of mine and something long and hard presses into my belly. The shock of it widens my eyes and stops my breathing.
    “Little Red,” he confirms. There’s dark intent in his eyes that even a virgin can read. “Because you look good enough for a big bad wolf like me to eat.” His big hand sweeps from my wrist up to my neck and for a wicked, hot second, I wonder if he’s going to kiss me in the middle of the Brew Ha Ha with his grandma’s knitting club watching. To my conflicted dismay, he only squeezes my neck before dropping his hand and moving away. “If you want a visit to the den, strap the cuff around your wrist and come out to the granary. I’ll know that you’re ready for what we have to offer.”
    Then he exits as quickly as he arrived, leaving me dazed, confused and turned on. The waitress, nineteen-year-old Tricia Merriweather, is fanning herself behind the counter.
    “Girl, you are so lucky. I’d kill for one of those.”
    My gaze drops to the counter where a leather cuff with the Death Lords emblem burned into the side rests against the wooden surface.
    I run my finger around the smooth interior. It’s still warm.
    “What it is?”
    Tricia leans forward. “It’s a claiming cuff. If you put it on that