Keeper—The Avenging Angels MC Introduction: Avenging Angels MC Book 0.5 Read online

  KEEPER—

  The Avenging Angels MC Introduction

  by

  Nia Farrell

  KEEPER—THE AVENGING ANGELS MC INTRODUCTION

  by Nia Farrell

  Copyright 2017 by Nia Farrell

  Edited by Anita Quick

  Cover Design by Crystal Visions

  Stock Photography from pixabay.com

  Formatting by Anita Quick

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used without the written consent of the author, except for brief quotes in reviews. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or any other means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book. Such action is in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law.

  Unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Release Date June 1, 2017

  Length 2,724 words

  ASIN: B071S7P81W

  Long Branch Books

  Shattuc, Illinois

  Disclaimers

  This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The use of any real company, organization, and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.

  Titles

  by Nia Farrell

  SOMETHING ELSE

  (The Three Graces Book One)

  SOMETHING DIFFERENT

  (The Three Graces Book Two)

  SOMETHING MORE

  (The Three Graces Book Three)

  Finalist, Best BDSM Book of the Year, Ménage Category,

  2016 Golden Flogger Awards

  THE THREE GRACES TRILOGY

  SOMETHING SPECIAL

  (The Three Graces Book Six—sequel to SOMETHING ELSE)

  Nominated for Best Erotica and Best Romance,

  2016 Summer Indie Book Awards

  DARK MOONS RISING

  REPLAY BOOK 1: VIKING RAID

  Nominated for Best Erotica,

  2016 Summer Indie Book Awards

  AS WICKED AS YOU WANT

  (FOREVER OURS BOOK 1)

  Voted #1 Erotica and #10 overall,

  The 50 Best Indie Books of 2016

  Nominated for Best Historical, Best Erotica, and Best Romance,

  2016 Summer Indie Book Awards

  REPLAY BOOK 2: TRIPLE PLAY

  REPLAY BOOK 3: HONOUR BOUND

  REPLAY BOOK 4: HOOKED

  Winner, Favorite Leading Lady,

  2017 Our Book Stars Awards

  REPLAY BOOK 5: NIGHT MUSIC

  REPLAY BOOK 6: HIGHLAND FLING

  Titles

  by Nia Farrell and Jane Austen

  PRIDE AND PUNISHMENT

  An Erotic Retelling of Jane Austen’s Beloved Classic

  Voted Best Historical Romance,

  2017 Ménage Romance Readers Favorites

  Nominated for Best Historical, Best Erotica, and Best Romance, 2016 Summer Indie Book Awards

  and by Nia Farrell writing as Erinn Ellender Quinn

  RIDE THE WIND

  TOUCH THE WIND

  REAP THE WIND

  DARE THE WIND

  DEDICATION

  To my awesome assistant Tasha Hooks PA for listening, for guiding, for sharing her honest opinions with me, and, most of all, for believing in me. For everything that you do, thank you, Wonder Woman!

  ~ Nia

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  KEEPER: THE AVENGING ANGELS MC INTRODUCTION

  Bonus: Free Sneak Peek at FIND HER

  (Avenging Angels MC Book 1)

  Author Bio

  Previous Releases

  KEEPER—The Avenging Angels MC Introduction

  A roadside breakdown leads to a night of revelations with Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan of the Avenging Angels MC and Isabella Castellari, sister to the reigning Queen of Porn. It’s a smoking hot short story, my first MC—and a taste of things to come!

  Planned Titles:

  FIND HER (The Avenging Angels Book 1)

  KEEPER (The Avenging Angels Book 2)

  LOSER (The Avenging Angels Book 3)

  REAPER (The Avenging Angels Book 4)

  Keeper—The Avenging Angels MC Introduction

  by

  Nia Farrell

  She knew trouble when she saw it, and it was most surely headed her way. Six feet four inches of blond haired, blue eyed, tattoo-labeled testosterone. Thor reincarnated, wearing denim jeans that bulged in all the right places and a tight black tee shirt peaking from the opened front of his cut. She didn’t know what everything meant that was on the front, but she knew exactly what was on the back. The logo of the Avenging Angels MC, said to have sixty-six members, one number short of hell on earth, and he had helped unleash it.

  Luke “Mad Dog” McLanahan. The man who had ruined her only sister. Or one of them, anyway.

  “Well, well.” He approached her car, purring like a jungle cat toying with his prey. “If it isn’t Isabella Castellari. You’ve grown.”

  The appreciative gleam in his eyes told her just how much he liked it.

  Isabella bit her lip, wondering what God was thinking when her car broke down miles from nowhere and she’d prayed for help. Surely He wouldn’t send Luke McLanahan. But there was no one else in sight. The next man who stopped might just pull her from her car, or force his way inside.

  The devil she knew seemed the better of the two.

  “Can you give me a ride home?” she asked, cringing when she saw his grin flatten.

  “You think that’s wise?” He put his arm on the roof and hooked a thumb into his belt loop, drawing her gaze downward to the front of his jeans.

  No wonder her sister had crushed on him.

  “What?”

  He sighed heavily. “I said, that didn’t work out so well last time.”

  Yes, but Krissy had come back half naked in someone else’s clothes, clinging to Mad Dog’s back, while his three brothers rode shotgun to make sure nothing happened with her dad. They’d heard the rumors. She’d lived with them all her life.

  “My folks are gone. If you don’t want the neighbors to see, then drop me off at the gas station by the highway,” she said. “I’ll call my friend Anna to come get me.”

  Mad Dog gave her an odd look, then nodded his head. “Get your stuff, close your windows, and lock up. I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

  It wasn’t the gas station. He buzzed right by the turn off and kept going, not stopping until he’d pulled into the Avenging Angels Clubhouse parking lot, lined with bikes and flanked with vehicles. “Get off and stay close,” he ordered, not bothering to see if she did.

  Left with no choice, she shouldered her bag and followed him into the clubhouse.

  The air was heavy with more than tobacco smoke and rife with the smell of sex. In what seemed to be the club’s communal room, every piece of furniture was occupied by bikers getting blow jobs, eating pussy, or banging one of the club sluts. In a far corner, she saw Luke’s brother
Richie sprawled in a chair, thighs spread wide, while a familiar head bobbed up and down between them.

  Isabella’s stomach dropped, and she turned away.

  There’d be no help from Anna tonight.

  Mad Dog grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him. She went, helpless to do anything else. In here, she needed his protection…even if it came at a price.

  He opened a door and dragged her inside what looked to be his bedroom. A small flat screen TV sat on a scarred maple chest of drawers. The desk beside it held a printer and a laptop computer, its screen as black as Mad Dog’s soul.

  Two interior doors led to what was likely a closet and what she hoped was a bathroom. “Is there somewhere I can wash up?”

  They both knew she was stalling for time. He humored her anyway. “On the left,” he said, smirking. “Don’t get lost.”

  As if she could. It was the tiniest bathroom that she’d ever seen. The stool and sink were opposite each other, so close, she could nearly use them both. The shower was better, spanning the other wall, roomy enough for a man Mad Dog’s size and likely big enough to share.

  She used two squares of tissue to lower the seat so she could go, then did a surgical scrub on her hands. Pulling up her knit top, she covered her fingers and twisted the door knob.

  Mad Dog was looking at her e-reader.

  Shit.

  He grinned like the very devil. “Seems little sister has a thing for MC’s. Who’d have guessed?”

  “They’re just books,” she snapped, plucking the reader from his hand and sticking it back in her bag. “Fiction. Just because I read it doesn’t mean I want it in real life.”

  “Krissy did,” he drawled. “She wanted gang banged. Trouble is, she hooked up with the wrong club. She’s lucky we came along when we did. You might not have seen her again.”

  Isabella felt her legs start to buckle. Mad Dog caught her and pulled her to sit beside him on the bed.

  She stared up at him, remembering, wondering how she could have gotten it so wrong.

  Krissy. Prissy Krissy. Too proud to admit where she’d been, she’d said nothing, just let them think she’d spent the night with Mad Dog and his brothers.

  And now her best friend was banging one of them.

  Isabella hoped it was only one.

  “What about Anna?”

  He tsked. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not my brother’s keeper. Richie’s been seeing her for two months or so now. They seem…fond of each other.”

  “Fond?” She barked a laugh. “Is that what you call it?”

  He angled his head. “You don’t have to be fond of someone to give them a blow job. You don’t even have to like them.” He fastened his gaze on her mouth. “You just have to be willing…and understand the rules. Only one of us gets to bite, and it’s not you, Isabella.”

  He reached for her breast, then, and she let him. Three years of forbidden fantasies were suddenly within her grasp. His was hard enough to bruise.

  “My rules. My way,” he growled, pinching her nipple and making her moan. “I like it rough, little girl. You have no idea. I doubt that you can handle me, but if you want to try….”

  Did she?

  Isabella’s mouth went dry, and she wet her lips. “How rough?”

  Mad Dog caught her chin and pushed his thumb into her mouth. “Rough,” he rumbled, his blue eyes darkening when she started sucking and teasing it with her tongue. “Spanking. Bondage. My belt, if you beg me for it. I like oral, and I like anal. Say the word, and I’ll take you home. If you stay, you’re gonna get ridden hard and put away wet.”

  He pulled his thumb from her mouth and fisted her hair. “Go or stay?” He pulled downward, forcing her face up to meet his.

  “Stay.”

  His mouth slammed down on hers in an elemental claiming of lips and teeth and tongue. He tasted mildly of beer and breath mints as he took her mouth, possessed it, his voracious tongue thrusting inside to battle with hers.

  He undid his belt, unfastened his pants, and pushed her face into his lap. “Take me out and suck me dry. You’d better swallow every drop.”

  It took two hands to pull him out. His cock must have been ten inches of vein-roped, velvet covered steel. She’d need to unhinge her jaw to begin to take him.

  “I’m not a fan of gag reflexes, so unless you can deep throat something this size, just suck what you can until I come, then keep on sucking.”

  Isabella licked his glans, catching the drop of pre-cum at its tip, swirling her tongue around his crown, teasing the sensitive point underneath that earned a low growl from his throat. Keeping her teeth behind the curl of her lips, she opened wide and took him in—or as much as she could, wrapping her fingers around the rest and jacking him with her hands. His balls tightened. His cock swelled, impossibly larger. “Take it,” he snarled, and exploded in her mouth, shooting round after round of cum down her throat for her to swallow.

  The next thing she knew, most of her clothes had disappeared, and she was in her red lace bra and panties, standing between his wide-spread feet like a slave waiting for inspection.

  Mad Dog arched a critical brow. “Who were you planning to see, little girl? Usually women who go out matching like this are looking to get laid.”

  “My date ended early,” she said, still smarting. Anna had warned her the guy was an arrogant prick. “He thought I was like Krissy.”

  He swiped a hand across his face. “He’s seen her, then?”

  “Probably.”

  “Finally, something we have in common. You’re not her keeper, either.” Mad Dog’s lips curled in the parody of a smile. “I guess it’s hard, being sister to the reigning Queen of Porn.”

  Isabella fought the urge to roll her eyes. “You have no idea.”

  “Well,” he drawled, “rebound sex is sweet revenge. Lucky you, I’m willing to be your consolation prize. Come here.” He hooked a finger in the front of her bra and pulled her to him. “Take this off. It’s too pretty to rip off that rocking body of yours, and I need a taste of those tits.”

  She reached behind her and unfastened her bra. The straps fell, dropping over her shoulders and sliding down her arms. It would have fallen to the floor if it hadn’t hooked on his erection.

  Splaying his hands, he lay claim to her breasts, squeezing, measuring, molding them to his whim. Lifting the left one, he fastened his mouth over it, suckling, then biting, catching the nipple between his teeth and lashing it with his tongue. He shoved his right hand between her legs. There was no hiding her arousal.

  “Soaking wet,” he growled. “What’s got you that way?”

  This. Him. Years of wanting and being denied, a prisoner of her desires.

  He slid the crotch to the side and worked his way to her opening, pressing against it, then pushing inside. “Jesus, you’re tight. So fucking tight.” He pulled out his finger and put it in his mouth to taste her. “I can’t wait to stick my dick in that sweet pussy of yours. Panties off, then lie on the bed.”

  She lay in the middle and clutched at the covers. She didn’t know much, but she knew better than to hide herself from him. He branded her with the heat of his gaze, from her C-cup breasts down to the nest of raven curls at the juncture of her thighs. “No bondage this first time, and no biting,” he said. “Scratch me if you need to, but every mark you leave earns a stripe from my belt. I really should gag you, but fuck if I don’t want to hear you call my name when I make you come.”

  Oh, God.

  He took off his cut and laid it reverently aside. He kicked her legs apart with his knees and settled himself between them, his hands curled around her thighs, his mouth hovering above her secrets. He seemed determined to discover them all.

  He devoured her, clamping his mouth on her pussy and fucking her with his tongue. Her hips bucked, desperate for the release he denied her, until she was reduced to begging for it. Smiling against her, he fastened his lips over her clit and sucked, hard, sealing them together and ripping the first
orgasm from her.

  “Mad Dog!” she cried when the dam burst. “Luke!”

  He added a finger and pumped it in her pussy, curling it and hitting her sweet spot, catapulting her into a second orgasm, hard on the heels of the first.

  Kneeling up and hooking his thumbs in his briefs, he slid everything down to the tops of his thighs, pulled a magnum condom from his back pocket, and ripped it open with his teeth.

  Suddenly this didn’t seem like such a good idea.

  “Luke,” she started.

  “Mad Dog,” he growled, hooking an elbow under her leg to open her wide. He wet himself on her juices and notched his head. “Hang on,” he ordered. “You’re in for a rough ride.”

  One searing thrust, and he was in, decimating her hymen, taking what other, better, more suitable men had tried. But none had been the bad boy biker of her dreams.

  “Fuck.” He cursed when he saw her tears. “God dammit, Isabella. You should have told me I’d be your first.”

  She managed a tremulous smile. “Would it have changed anything?”

  He blew out harshly. “Hell, no. Except you’ve earned yourself a spanking. Later,” he said, a dark promise in his voice. “Right now, I’m going to own this pussy. And then I’m going to claim that ass.”

  And own it, he did. He had to work for it, but with patience and perseverance, he managed to work most of his length inside, then started moving, out and in, again and again, picking up speed, driving in deeper, lengthening his strokes until he was pounding into her and she was riding wave after pulsing wave of pleasure.

  He stopped short of coming. “Hands and knees,” he growled. “Another time, I’ll fuck you like an animal. Right now, I’m claiming that ass of yours.”

  She rolled over and pushed herself up, waiting with palms planted and knees braced on the mattress, praying he’d use lube. She caught the soft scent of coconut oil just before his hand slathered it over her bung hole, working some of it inside. One finger, then two, then the velvet crown, pressing against it, into it, pushing past the rings of muscle, a pinching stretch of pleasure and pain. He grabbed her hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. Breathed hissed between his teeth as he sank his length in deeper, and deeper yet, until he was buried to the root in her warmth.