Wrath – Heartlands Motorcycle Club Read online Dani Wyatt

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
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I shake my head. “No. I’ll just go home. Watch a movie and go to bed early. I didn’t sleep much. I’m tired already. Maybe I’ll take a bath then a nap.”

Her deep brown eyes are on me. “Okay, sister. You need me I’ll keep my phone right next to me. Got it? I’ll come whenever you need me.”

“Thanks.” I watch her eat two more pieces of pizza and I should be thinking about almost dying, but what I’m really thinking about is Wrath. “My dad is trying to get a flight back too. I should be there when he gets home. Not sure when. I’m waiting to hear back.”

Jillian gives me one of her famous hugs and then chauffeurs me home. There’s a crew of disaster clean up people working at the church, and William’s car is parked in our driveway, so I know he is there overseeing things as well until my dad gets back.

I consider for a minute going inside and checking on things, but I don’t see the point. I’m exhausted and William is just more than I can handle right now.

Two hours later, I’ve soaked in the tub and done everything I can to stop the throbbing between my legs because I can’t stop thinking of Wrath.

While I was in the tub, I imagined him with me. I thought of how the hair I see on his chest would feel against my back if he were sitting behind me while I leaned back, the bubbles all around us.

I thought about what his cock looked like. Much to my father’s horror, which he doesn’t know, I’m not a virgin. I’ve never been in love or felt anything close to what I feel when I’m around Henry...or Wrath...whatever, but I’m no saint. I lived the college life. I went to parties, drank too much a few times and had a couple boyfriends and didn’t necessarily have any bad sexual experiences.

But they weren’t that great either.

Something about Wrath makes me feel safe and in danger all at the same time, and it’s exhilarating.

I grab a bowl of Butter Pecan ice cream and settle on the couch, thinking a nice binge watch of Flea Bag is in order. I pull my green terry cloth robe around me, grab a blanket and a pillow and get into my favorite corner spot in the sofa before I click the TV on.

Ten minutes into my self-care, the front door opens, scaring the shit out of me, and William is standing in the living room with distaste in his eyes.

“What the hell?” I pull my robe closed because I didn’t bother with anything under it, because I am supposed to be alone in my home.

“Don’t curse at me.” He jabs back. “What are you doing? It’s the middle of the day.” He looks like he just ate something that tasted really bad.

“I’m eating ice cream and watching TV. What are you doing, walking into someone else's house without knocking?”

He tightens his lips and his eyes narrow, dismissing my question. “The sheriff wants to talk to you again. Some of those motorcycle club people were here this morning, poking around before the work crew arrived. The sheriff says the fire is suspicious and with the tension we’ve had with that one member, well, I’m going to be staying with you until your father gets back.”

It’s not a question, but truth is my opinion of Wrath has changed and I don’t think there is any way he was involved. “I don’t need you to stay. I’m not in any danger.”

“You don’t know what you need. My things are in the car. I’m going back to check in with the crew and I want dinner ready at seven. And put the ice cream away. You don’t need to be eating junk. Make a salad for yourself if you’re hungry.”

I roll my eyes and take a long slow spoonful of ice cream and let out an exaggerated moan that borders on orgasmic.

He glares at me, but he’s ruined my moment, and I just want to be away from him so I throw off the blanket. “I’m going to my room. It’s a bit crowded in here.”

I step by him and he grabs my arm, jerking me around to look at him. He always smells like old man, even though he’s maybe forty, his scent reminding me of my grandfather’s room at the nursing home the last few years he was still alive.

“You know, it’s your job to honor thy father and mother. You know what your father wants. You know where a woman’s place is. Your father’s spoiled you, but it’s time to grow up.”

I jerk my arm away just as he releases his grip and my half-eaten bowl of ice cream goes flying, smashing on the wood floor and spreading into a gloopy puddle of creamy wonder.


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