Cyclone – Bones MC Read Online Marteeka Karland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32845 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
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“Well, it doesn’t make me smile!” She whirled around where she stood next to the bed, pointing a finger at me. “You didn’t want anything to do with me! Now you’re happy about this? Ugh! You’re such a bastard!”

I blinked several times while I tried to get a grip on reality here. There was no way in hell I should be happy about this. None whatsoever. Not only was she right that I didn’t want a woman, but a baby would tie us together forever…

And there went my cock. Fucking bastard sprang hard almost instantly at the thought of her being in my life permanently. Not as my woman or anything, but I liked knowing she’d always be there. Which only led to more questions. Fuck.

No! I needed to focus on all the reasons this was a bad idea. I didn’t want a kid. Not yet anyway.

“You’re right. Look, honey. I get it. I’m sorry.”

I reached out and tried to take her hand, but she shook it away.

“No.” She stepped away, her voice quaking with emotion. “You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

I felt a pang of regret as I watched her retreat to the bed. “Willa, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m feelin’.”

She whirled around, her face a mask of fury. “You don’t have to know what you’re feeling. I only thought you should know. I mean, you were right. It only took one mishap.”

I was probably the biggest bastard in the world for even thinking about wanting a baby when I wasn’t even sure if I wanted a relationship yet, but I found myself in awe of this whole situation. It hit me out of nowhere and I didn’t trust the feeling. Not yet. I needed to think about this and what her revelation meant long term. Then I’d figure out what I wanted to do about Willa in my life. “OK, honey.”

“Don’t call me honey! I’m not your honey! I’m not your anything!” With her small explosion of anger came two tears, which she wiped away with an angry swipe of her hand.

“I’m making this worse.”

“You think?” she snarked.

I raised my hands in what I hoped was a non-threatening gesture. “It was a reflex, Willa. A chauvinistic one, but a reflex. I won’t do it again.”

“Good.” She still looked supremely pissed, and I couldn’t blame her. We stood there in silence for a moment, and I felt the heat of her glowering gaze burning into me. Finally, she turned away and walked over to the window.

“Look, I’m sorry.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. The news had rocked me, but instead of draining my energy as the adrenaline wore off, I found myself… energized. “I’m not trying to be a jerk. I just don’t know what to say.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Then don’t say anything,” she said. “Just let me be mad for a while. Then maybe I can talk about this like an adult.” Willa took a few shaky breaths before turning back around. The anger had melted away, replaced with sadness and a sense of regret that seemed to come from somewhere deep within her. “I’m sorry. I have no right to be angry at you. I’m an adult. I can deal with this.”

“Sure, you can deal with this. You’ve got a core of steel inside you just like your mother, but you don’t have to deal with this all on your own. I’m here to help you. It’s as much my mistake as it was yours.”

She scowled again. “Mistake,” she hissed. “You want to know what my mistake was?” I opened my mouth to answer but she plowed on. “My mistake was being attracted to you in the first Goddamned place. You’re not worth my infatuation or attraction.” She put one hand over her stomach, like it was churning uncomfortably. When she shoved past me and sprinted for the bathroom, I realized I was right.

Willa vomited over and over, retching so hard it made me wince. I ambled over to the bathroom to find her leaning over the toilet, struggling to hold her hair out of the way and stay upright at the same time.

Before I realized what I was doing, I found myself gathering her hair to hold it back in a ponytail at the back of her head before snaking an arm around her middle to hold her up. If she noticed, she was too sick to say anything.

It seemed like she was sick forever. Not constantly but in waves. Between times, she’d sit back, whimpering and spitting in the toilet every few seconds before flushing. A couple minutes later, it would start again. All the while, I stayed with her, murmuring nonsense to try to comfort her when I had no clue what to do. I knew one thing. We weren’t leaving tomorrow. She needed rest and care before taking a four-hour trip back to what was likely going to be a very uncomfortable situation for her. Fuck. For both of us.


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