stripped of who I am.
If there ever existed a true, predatory alpha male, then Wolf Stone was it. The son of a bitch was sinfully hot and he knew it. Arrogant, dominating, and as the leader of Hell’s Lovers, he was ultimately dangerous. So, how the hell did a girl like me get involved with such a dark soul?
I’m his lawyer. His go to girl. The one who gives him all the advice he needs when he’s making any business deal on his club.
I met him a year ago. I was broken down on the side of the road when the revving of a Harley caught my attention. How did I knew it was a Harley, you ask? My Dad. He had one when I was growing up. I’ll never forget the roaring of its engine as it came down the road.
I took my chances and ran out, trying to wave the person down. I regretted it the instant he pulled over. He was tall, broad shouldered, and built. Oh my God, was he built. He was wearing a black leather jacket and dark washed jeans. His boot heels made a distinct clicking sound as he approached me.
“You havin’ troubles?”
His voice had a rich rumble that made me nearly drop to my knees. You may not believe me, but the man dripped sex. He stood there staring at me, looking all male and perfect. I was crazy to be attracted to him, but I couldn’t help it, my body trembled with need at the sight of him. I lost my voice as he took his aviators off. His face wasn’t handsome. It was manly, a rugged jawline, thick lips, and the clearest set of blue eyes that competed with the clearest of skies. He ran a hand through his jet-black locks and I was fixated. The man was about to become my obsession.
“Are you alright?” He asked, and I tried to snap out of my trance. I was grateful for my sunglasses that covered my features as I checked him out.
“Um, I think my radiator blew.”
“Damn.” He mumbled and bent under the hood. He moved around some cables and grimaced. “Yup. Looks like it ruptured. You’re not gonna be going anywhere for a while.”
“Shit.” I ran my hands through my brown wavy hair, which was probably a windblown mess.
He looked at me then and I could feel his eyes trail up my bare legs and pencil skirt, roaming up my shirt and lingering on my breasts. His heated gaze almost made me melt.
“You need a ride?” his voice rumbled as he continued to stare at my body.
I should have been disgusted by his blazen disregard for propriety, but instead I felt my inner core gush with arousal.
Looking down at my outfit, and then at the bike, I realized there was no way this skirt would open wide enough for me to straddle that monster, meaning the bike of course.
He smirked and walked towards me. “I can help you with that.” He pointed at my skirt.
“Oh.” I half breathed as he came up to me. I can smell leather and a woody spice I couldn’t quite decipher, but it was intoxicating.
“I mean…if you want me too.”
“I…I have a meeting in thirty minutes… in the city.”
He stared down at my legs. “Hmmm. I don’t think you’ll like my idea, then.”
“Oh? And what exactly did you have in mind.”
He came closer and I could feel his breath on my forehead. He was tall, at least six feet, and he could easily consume my body. I should have been afraid, but a strange sense of wanting to be near him kept me grounded.
“Ripping that tight little skirt in half.”
I looked up at him then, my eyes had gone wide in disbelief as he stared down at me, that sexy smirk pasted on his face.
He chuckled. “Just the slit, gorgeous. So you could ride.”
My eyebrows shot up, and something along the lines of relief traced with disappointment ran through me. “Oh.”
For being a college graduate and a lawyer, this guy had literally rendered me speechless.
“So, do you want me to rip it?”
His voice was a low vibration that heated my insides to where all I could do was nod. I watched him kneel before me, and images of him lying between my legs made me slightly unsteady. I swayed and placed a hand on his shoulder. His hand shot up to my calf and the electric shock that went through my core had me stifling a groan. What the hell was wrong with me? I was a smart, independent woman. No man had ever had an effect on me like this one did.
“You alright, gorgeous?”
“Y…yes. Sorry, I haven’t eaten.”
“Then let’s put you on that bike and get you somethin’ to eat.”
I felt, more than noticed, that his hand was lingering on my leg. Suddenly he let go and grabbed the edge of my skirt, where the slit split on the side of my thigh. He roughly tugged on it, tearing it apart. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips and I gripped him tighter. He lowered his head for a brief moment and then patted the back of my now naked thigh before standing up.
I nodded, trying to disguise the lust that ran through me, but I could feel myself start blushing. Hoping he would think it was the heat from the sun, I quickly turned around and went to grab my purse. Leaning over the seat I caught a glance of him in the rearview mirror. He was blatantly staring at my ass while I was bent over the seat. I realized my skirt had slightly ridden up and the now, deep slit exposed my full thigh, right up to the seam of my panty line. I had a moment of wanting to entice him, and I did, gently swaying my hips. His reaction drenched my panties. His hand shot up to his bulge as he gave it a hard tug and then he turned around. The freak in me loved it, and feeling confident I locked the car door and walked up to him.
“Ready.” I said, and handed him my briefcase. “Is there a place for this?”
“Yeah. Get on.” He seemed short with me, but I didn’t dare ask why.
He got on the bike and revved the engine up. I stood there, trying to figure out how to sit and then realized I had to scrunch my skirt up to be able to climb on.
“Hop on, gorgeous.”
I stared at him and thought, what the hell. I watched him as I raised my skirt up and his eyebrows shot up. He turned his face forward and I smiled knowingly. Propping one leg over the seat I finally mounted the bike. I was so sensitive that the rumble of the engine and the heat from the seat nearly made me cum. He reached over and gave me a small helmet, then he tapped my knee and I gripped his waist. His scent was driving me crazy and I could feel the muscles in his back stretching as I pressed my chest to it. It was the most arousing ride I had ever been on.
The wind blew through my hair as we rode into the city and I didn’t have a care in the world whether my skirt was torn, or my hair was a mess. I felt a freedom like no other. And best of all, I felt safe. Safe in the arms of this sexy stranger.
name. Instead I’ll use my inner goddess’ name, it’s much
more fun that way. I grew up in New York City where I had a wonderful
education, loving parents and awesome friends. What more could a girl
sixteen. The first romance I read was Stephanie Laurens’ Devil’s
Bride. Since then I have been influenced by dozens of flourishing
romance authors and even more dashing and daring rogues. I must say
it, but Fifty Shades was not my first erotic romance, nor did it
influence me to start writing them. If you’ve never read Mary
Balogh, Elizabeth Hoyt, Lisa Kleypas, Bertrice Small or A.N.
Roquelaure’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy, then you’re missing out.
Those were my sweet introductions to erotic romance, and boy were
sinful tales of my own not to share. I like my alphas rough and
possessive, and I have no shame in saying it or writing it. I had
delightfully wicked teachers growing up, their books took me to new
worlds and brought me new loves. So, I want to do the same for you. I
want to indulge my readers in those steamy reads that will send them
into the arms of dangerous alphas and deliciously sexy rogues,
without leaving the confines of their nice warm bed. If I am able to
entice your inner goddesses, then I have done my job and I am