Hunter: MC Romance (Hell Reapers MC Book 1) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Liz Lorde
exchange a few words and cash would pass between their hands.
I wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, were they purchasing drugs just then? I put that thought on the back burner and carefully moved my way through a throng of people, brushing uncomfortably close to some men.
That was when I felt it. Some pinching sensation on the back of my ass.
I whipped around and stared down the creep who was clearly proud with what he had done. "What the hell you fucking pervert," I shoved him hard on his chest, causing him to stumble backwards roughly into the railings of the area outside the dance floor. I sprang into action after the man, getting up into his face and narrowing my eyes at him.
"Jesus lady," the creep said, his friends slithering up beside him, "take it easy will ya?"
"I'm not your lady," I huffed, "do that again and I'll have you crying your mother's name," I pushed him a final time and glanced over at the creep's posse. I could feel the anger rising through my bones, my heart hammering in my chest - I needed to get away from them before I did something I'd regret.
Departing from the situation, I found myself next to the bar, my hands still a little shaky from the experience. I pulled in a series of breaths and tried to calm myself down.
Don't do it. Not here. I felt the stinging kiss behind my eyes. The urge to pour out my feelings was strong; the need to be tough was stronger. I bit down on the end of my tongue hard, flashes of Jerry with his hands all over me whirling through my head.
I fumbled my way to one of the black stools at the head of the bar. Thankfully the music wasn't quite as loud here.
The bartender slinked over to my end of the table, giving me a look over. He was a short man, maybe 5'4. He had a full head of short brown hair and a full, thick beard. Tattoos of all colors and shapes and sizes covered his arms and what I could see of his chest. His white sleeves were rolled back past his elbows, giving him a cool look. "You alright?" He asked in an icy tone.
I looked up at him, trying to swallow away my nerves, "Yeah," I replied, "you got any Jager?" I inquired.
The Bartender bobbed his head and quickly produced a shot.
I stopped him before he could pour, putting up two fingers, "Make it two," I said with a certain resignation in my voice. Tonight was already going to hell in a hand basket and I hadn't even made contact with a Reaper.
Get your shit together. Creeps will be creeps, you can't expect to not have to deal with them.
The Bartender tilted his head and went to get a second shot glass, expertly filling the two glasses and placing them down in front of me. "You here on business or pleasure?"
"I like to dabble in both," I brought the glass to my lips and tipped my head back, feeling the liquid courage worm it's way down my throat - a bitter taste burning through me. I shuddered and shook my head for a brief spell, and then grabbed the other shot, knocking it back as well.
“I see," the Bartender said, "this your first time here?"
"Do I make it so obvious?" I asked, a small smile appearing on my face.
The bartender smiled, "Not your fault," he smoothly said, "I know pretty much every face that comes in here. If you're looking for something," he leaned in closer against the counter, his hazel colored eyes gazing into my own, "I can provide."
There's no way in hell he's talking about something illegal so non-chalantly, is there? "Provide...what, exactly?" I leaned in response.
"Whatever you need," the man reaffirmed in that lovely, smooth tone. He probably slept on the cool side of the pillow every night of his adult life. “If it can't be done tonight, then another day,” he cocked his head, “If not the next day, the next week. A step at a time, a call at a time, it'll be done."
I didn't say anything for a moment. Too stunned and still digesting what he was getting at. “You’re telling me that you could just like,” I looked away from the bartender for a
I wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to mean, were they purchasing drugs just then? I put that thought on the back burner and carefully moved my way through a throng of people, brushing uncomfortably close to some men.
That was when I felt it. Some pinching sensation on the back of my ass.
I whipped around and stared down the creep who was clearly proud with what he had done. "What the hell you fucking pervert," I shoved him hard on his chest, causing him to stumble backwards roughly into the railings of the area outside the dance floor. I sprang into action after the man, getting up into his face and narrowing my eyes at him.
"Jesus lady," the creep said, his friends slithering up beside him, "take it easy will ya?"
"I'm not your lady," I huffed, "do that again and I'll have you crying your mother's name," I pushed him a final time and glanced over at the creep's posse. I could feel the anger rising through my bones, my heart hammering in my chest - I needed to get away from them before I did something I'd regret.
Departing from the situation, I found myself next to the bar, my hands still a little shaky from the experience. I pulled in a series of breaths and tried to calm myself down.
Don't do it. Not here. I felt the stinging kiss behind my eyes. The urge to pour out my feelings was strong; the need to be tough was stronger. I bit down on the end of my tongue hard, flashes of Jerry with his hands all over me whirling through my head.
I fumbled my way to one of the black stools at the head of the bar. Thankfully the music wasn't quite as loud here.
The bartender slinked over to my end of the table, giving me a look over. He was a short man, maybe 5'4. He had a full head of short brown hair and a full, thick beard. Tattoos of all colors and shapes and sizes covered his arms and what I could see of his chest. His white sleeves were rolled back past his elbows, giving him a cool look. "You alright?" He asked in an icy tone.
I looked up at him, trying to swallow away my nerves, "Yeah," I replied, "you got any Jager?" I inquired.
The Bartender bobbed his head and quickly produced a shot.
I stopped him before he could pour, putting up two fingers, "Make it two," I said with a certain resignation in my voice. Tonight was already going to hell in a hand basket and I hadn't even made contact with a Reaper.
Get your shit together. Creeps will be creeps, you can't expect to not have to deal with them.
The Bartender tilted his head and went to get a second shot glass, expertly filling the two glasses and placing them down in front of me. "You here on business or pleasure?"
"I like to dabble in both," I brought the glass to my lips and tipped my head back, feeling the liquid courage worm it's way down my throat - a bitter taste burning through me. I shuddered and shook my head for a brief spell, and then grabbed the other shot, knocking it back as well.
“I see," the Bartender said, "this your first time here?"
"Do I make it so obvious?" I asked, a small smile appearing on my face.
The bartender smiled, "Not your fault," he smoothly said, "I know pretty much every face that comes in here. If you're looking for something," he leaned in closer against the counter, his hazel colored eyes gazing into my own, "I can provide."
There's no way in hell he's talking about something illegal so non-chalantly, is there? "Provide...what, exactly?" I leaned in response.
"Whatever you need," the man reaffirmed in that lovely, smooth tone. He probably slept on the cool side of the pillow every night of his adult life. “If it can't be done tonight, then another day,” he cocked his head, “If not the next day, the next week. A step at a time, a call at a time, it'll be done."
I didn't say anything for a moment. Too stunned and still digesting what he was getting at. “You’re telling me that you could just like,” I looked away from the bartender for a
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