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    Hands Off My Child: Black Cossacks MC, #2
    Hands Off My Child: Black Cossacks MC, #2
    Hands Off My Child: Black Cossacks MC, #2
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Hands Off My Child: Black Cossacks MC, #2

    By Claire St. Rose

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Hands Off My Child is book 2 of the Black Cossacks MC trilogy. Book 3, Hands Off My Chopper, is available everywhere now!

    I'LL ONLY SAY IT ONCE: KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY WIFE.

    She had no business getting involved with me.
    But now that she's mine, she's no one else's.
    And if anyone – her boss, my enemies – think they can take her from me…
    They are dead. F**king. Wrong.

    She's the upstairs neighbor, sticking her nose where it didn't belong.
    I'm a biker king doing whatever I damn well please.

    She thinks she hates me, but she's wrong.
    She wants me.
    She needs me.
    I just have to make her see it.

    But she's got no place in this biker life.
    She's too pure, too innocent.

    So it's a shame when she throws herself in the middle of the crossfire without even realizing it.

    I used her, I'll admit it.
    But I did what I had to do.
    And if I had to go back, I'd do it over again.

    Because now that she's had a taste of the wild side, she's gonna be hungry for more.
    And I'm just the man to give it to her.
    Over, and over, and over again.

    She's mine now.
    So everyone else better stay the f**k away.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereBook Publishing World
    Release dateJan 14, 2019
    ISBN9781386631217
    Hands Off My Child: Black Cossacks MC, #2

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      Book preview

      Hands Off My Child - Claire St. Rose

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      HANDS OFF MY CHILD: Black Cossacks MC (Book 2)

      By Claire St. Rose

      I’LL ONLY SAY IT ONCE: KEEP YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY WIFE.

      SHE HAD NO BUSINESS getting involved with me.

      But now that she’s mine, she’s no one else’s.

      And if anyone – her boss, my enemies – think they can take her from me...

      They are dead. F**king. Wrong.

      She’s the upstairs neighbor, sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

      I’m a biker king doing whatever I damn well please.

      She thinks she hates me, but she’s wrong.

      She wants me.

      She needs me.

      I just have to make her see it.

      But she’s got no place in this biker life.

      She’s too pure, too innocent.

      So it’s a shame when she throws herself in the middle of the crossfire without even realizing it.

      I used her, I’ll admit it.

      But I did what I had to do.

      And if I had to go back, I’d do it over again.

      Because now that she’s had a taste of the wild side, she’s gonna be hungry for more.

      And I’m just the man to give it to her.

      Over, and over, and over again.

      She’s mine now.

      So everyone else better stay the f**k away.

      CHAPTER 1

      KING

      One night. Normally after one night with a woman, I'm lucky if I can even remember her name. It's almost unheard of that after that night that I keep thinking about her. I racked my brain and couldn't remember ever calling a girl the next day like I always promised I would. Usually I tossed her number in the trash can as soon as I got home. If I even get that far with it. Sometimes, I don't remember even asking for it.

      But Abbie – she was different. Really different and it was really doing a number on me. She got under my skin and without even meaning for it to, my mind kept going back to that night with her. I could be doing something like working on my bike or watching a game and then all of the sudden, I would get images of that night at my bar – with her on my table – popping into my head. As the images flashed through my mind like some mental porno, I would hear her voice, hear the way she called out my name. I would feel the way her skin felt pressed against mine. I could recall the way she tasted.

      I licked my lips as if the taste of her might still linger on them. But, of course, they didn't.

      Normally, after a night like that, I found myself having to block the girl's number. A call or two after the fact was fine. Expected even. But a woman who starts blowing up my phone with texts and calls, leaving pretty pathetic sounding voicemails that seem to get more and more frantic is never sexy and it's never, ever fun. In fact, it gets downright annoying. Stalkers and desperate chicks aren't sexy in any way, shape, or form.

      But now that the shoe was on the other foot and it was me who was blowing up somebody else's phone after an incredible night, I found it was even less fun. In fact, not only was it not fun, it was driving me bat shit crazy.

      I wasn't used to not getting what I wanted, and I wanted Abbie to respond. I wanted her to return my call. Hell, all I wanted was for her to return my goddamn text messages. I wasn't asking her for a relationship. There was no way in hell I was looking for that. All I wanted from her right then was just a chat. A conversation over a cup of coffee. Something. And instead, despite all of my best efforts, I got nothing but silence in return.

      Damn. It sucked. Maybe it was a little dose of karma, or the cosmos giving me a taste of my own medicine for a change, but it sucked big time and it wasn't making me very happy at all.

      Dayuuum, son, Roy's voice called out to me. He was trying – and failing – to suppress his laughter. Seems like something's sure got you distracted today, don't it?

      I looked over and he wasn't alone. Three other guys were with him, all of them smirking at me. At least, they were until I laid my eyes on them. Their annoying fucking smirks went away really quickly after that. Why? I snapped. You say somethin' important, Roy? Or just more of the horseshit you normally run around spouting?

      Roy grinned and shook his head. He was allowed to taunt me. We had that sort of friendship. The other men? Not so much. I scowled at them, and one by one, they excused themselves from the shop, all suddenly remembering they had something to do or somewhere to be.

      Always. Everything I say is important, King, Roy said, tipping me a wink. Don't you know that by now, boy?

      I know plenty who'd argue with that sentiment, I said, leaning back against the table with a sigh. So what's up?

      Nothing. Absolutely nothing, Roy said, shaking his head. Well, at least with me there ain't. But there appears to be something going on with you these last few days. Care to talk about it? They say confession is good for the soul and all that happy horseshit.

      Since when did we become all BFFs, Roy? Should we start drinking wine and watching chick flicks together? Maybe I should start confiding all my deepest, darkest secrets to you...

      Roy handed me a beer and shook his head. Not all of 'em, he said. A man needs to keep his own counsel sometimes. But you know you can always talk to me, King. About anything. I'm not like the others.

      The others? Like those three candyasses who couldn't run away fast enough just because I looked at them sideways?

      Roy laughed again, taking a long, hard drink from his bottle of beer. He turned it around in his hand as if checking out the label. Some cheap beer, nothing fancy. It tasted like horse piss, but I wasn't one to complain. Neither was he. Beer was beer. So long as it was cold and wet, we were good to go.

      Without even realizing it, I reached out, picked up my phone and checked it – afraid that I'd maybe missed a message from Abbie. It was an unconscious, reflexive movement and when I caught myself doing it, I wanted to slap myself right upside the goddamn head.

      Roy arched and eyebrow and gave me a look. Nah, you ain't this hung up over some bitch, are you?

      No fucking way, man, I said, taking a drink of the horse piss. Never. You know me. That's not my style.

      Then why have you checked your phone a hundred times in the last minute? he asked. Who is it you're hoping is going to call?

      Roy watched me carefully, as if waiting for me to say something stupid – or lie to him. He was right about him not being like the others. He knew me better than most, and he could read me like he read a Playboy. Okay, he read me better than that since no one ever fucking read those magazines for the articles anyway. But he could see me with the same critical eye he used to take in all of the voluptuous details of the centerfold. It was almost unnerving how much the man could pick up on.

      I shrugged and tried to play it off. Just some chick I banged the other night –

      Roy looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

      – but listen, man, I said quickly, it ain't like that. I'm not all hung up on her or anything. She was just a really good lay and I'm only interested in hooking up again. That's all.

      King, come on – you can get any woman in any bar and you know it. Hell, I've seen you do it. But the one thing I've never seen? In all the time I've known you, I've never, ever seen you check your messages, waiting for some bitch to call you back.

      I shrugged again. I don't know what you want me to say, man. She was a good lay and I'm looking to score another piece of it.

      Roy eyed me, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. What's so different about this one, King? Is she into anal? Threesomes? Spill the beans, man.

      Truthfully, it was none of that shit.

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