Ruthless (Dark MC Romance) Read Online Free

my eyes as I heard his pants fall and winced as his cock found my too-dry entrance. The harsh sound of motorcycles roaring across the highway made tears thicken in my throat. Thinking of the man and life I left behind, a sad moan left my throat as Bryan thrust his hips.
    * * *
    The fear that followed me everywhere was heightened today. I couldn’t shake it off all day, starting from the moment I saw a biker sitting outside the grocery store, his shades hiding his eyes. He could have been staring at me. I thought I saw a diamond-shaped tattoo on his arm. Is he from the Dragons? Did they find me? I almost dropped the bags of groceries.
    He could just be a Hells Angel. Maybe he isn’t in a club.
    But my mind burned with the image of the diamond-shaped tattoo and the large, spiky 1% inside it.
    The groceries stayed in my car all day in the hot sun. I didn’t want to go home yet. Something—I don’t know what it was—dread, perhaps, told me not to go home. Bryan had no idea that I took birth control pills everyday. In truth, he had no idea who I was. I was a fucking mess.
    I drove through the smog filled valley of Los Angeles, driving all the way out to the Hollywood Hills to park my car near the sign. All I needed was a little release. Chain-smoking, I sat on the roof of my van, oblivious to the groceries quietly rotting away in my car. It was a quiet afternoon, but the orange line of smog that lay across Los Angeles created a haze, giving the impression that it was later in the day.
    A rumbling sound made me sit bolt upright. I dropped the cigarette and listened hard, willing that it was just a figment of my imagination. Another growl rumbled in my ears and I scrambled off the car, slamming the keys into the ignition to get the hell out of there.
    The car peeled down the dirt road and I stared ahead, fully prepared to run them over. I could almost see the chrome blinding my eyes as it throttled up the hill. You won’t fucking take me. My eyes darted at any movement on the road, but all I saw was the wind rustling the shrubbery. There was no motorcycle. I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Why am I hearing things?
    On the way home, I spotted the pool hall I visited yesterday and felt a rush of excitement, along with sickening fear. Maybe they heard about it.
    My hands slipped on the steering wheel and I briefly debated going back to the grocery store, because the meat was starting to smell.
    He could still be there. He could be following me right now.
    I glanced into the rear view mirror, watching carefully when I changed lanes to see if I had a tail. Red lights blazed in front of me and I slammed the brakes.
    You’re going to get yourself killed.
    My hand shot into the glove compartment to pop open the bottle of Xanax and in my shaking hand I spilled half the bottle on the car seat. Then the lights turned green. I let the cars behind me honk as I grabbed two of them and swallowed. I jerked the steering wheel to turn right randomly, to throw off the imaginary tails behind me. I sped down the streets, making another hard turn, and it went on until gradually my arms lost their compulsion to jerk the steering wheel. The pressure on the gas pedal lessened, but then I would think about that biker and my heart would start back up again.
    I drove back to our house in Santa Monica, choosing speed over safety at ever juncture. It was almost four and I had nothing prepared for dinner. He would walk in, exhausted from a full day’s work, and his eyes would lower in disappointment when he realized nothing was ready for him. Guilt throbbed inside me.
     All Bryan wanted from me was a clean house and food ready for him when he got home from work. And every week, I somehow managed to fuck it up. What’ll it be like when we have kids?
    My stomach turned when I saw Bryan’s car already pulled into the driveway. He’s early. Shit. I parked the car next to his and grabbed the spoiled groceries. It was a short trip across our