4 Horsemen Novella! Kayla's Ride (Sons of San Merced Erotic Motorcycle Club Biker Romance) Read Online Free PDF

answers.
    Famine looked even better than I did.
    I found myself staring at his legs. Famine was standing in the living room holding a bottle of whiskey and a tall glass, a towel carefully strapped around his waist. His tanned skin rippled with muscle from his shoulders on down, but what had caught my attention wasn’t his perfect abs or amazing chest, it was the line of dark stitches holding his thigh together. Famine was right, whoever they had working there was an artist. Even with my little bit of nurse training I never could have closed that cut up so cleanly.
    Famine sat, pointing to the chair across the coffee table. “I can explain…”
    I settled down on the edge of the seat, digging my nails into my palm to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The pain swelled from my hand and I frowned.
    Famine began. “The Kings want to bring something in through the docks, and they need our help to do it.”
    “What is it?” I replied, curious where this was going.
    “Look, we’re no saints. We let some things through, get our hands dirty, turn the FBI onto the small players shipping in drugs or weapons. We’re there to play defense against the big stuff.”
    “Big stuff?”
    “Terrorists, big cartels, and right now, something totally different.”
    I was silent, waiting for his words with my breath held in my throat.
    “The Kings are bringing in women.”
    I gasped. “Human trafficking? Immigrants?”
    “Sex slaves, prostitutes, mostly out of China and the Phillipines.”
    “Why didn’t you stop them?”
    “We didn’t know.”
    “You know now. You’re stopping them now?”
    He stopped, drawing a deep breath through his nose before letting out a long sigh. “It’s, complicated.”
    “Complicated? It’s people!” I protested, gripping the arms of the chair.
    “Yes, I know… But to stop them, we need to cut off the head. The Kings are players, not the coach.”
    I looked down at my hands, rolling them over and surveying the small gouges in my delicate skin. “They tried to kill you…”
    “You don’t know that. We have enemies.”
    “So what are you saying Famine?”
    “I’m saying we need to make a deal, bring in a container or two, and figure out who’s in charge. Then, we shut it down for good.”
    “And if it was the Kings? The ones in the parking lot? The man who grabbed me…”
    Anger flashed in Famine’s eyes, and something else. He stood up, his legs carrying him across the carpet toward me. My nose filled with his scent, the leather, the sandalwood, and something else. I drew the scent in greedily; it was the scent that screamed something raw and primal. Sex.
    “You felt it, back at the bar, didn’t you?” Famine whispered.
    I shuddered. His scent was intoxicating, drawing me in. He pressed his face near my neck, inhaling as he drew up behind my ear.
    “If it was the Kings, if they hurt you, I’ll kill them.”
    I thought back to the parking lot, to the fight. I could see the silhouettes of the men fighting as the tunnel of darkness drew in, and Famine, the way he threw himself into the fight.
    “Thank you,” I whispered, the word barely leaving my lips. “Tell me something, before we….”
    “What do you need to know?” Famine growled, his hand against my cheek.
    “What is your name? Your real name?”
    “My name is Mark,” he said, drawing my head back with his hand, locking his lips onto my own. I jousted with him, our kiss passionate and hungry in a way nearly animal in its ferocity. When he pulled away I found myself whimpering. I’d seen too much, learned too much, and yet I was totally at this man’s mercy. Desire flowed through my veins, sinful intent pouring from my every inch of skin.
    “I’m sorry. I am having difficulty controlling myself.” Mark said quietly, tearing himself away from me. “Every since I first saw you…”
    The taste of his tongue lingered on my mouth, his musk still dancing in my nostrils. I focused on it, as if my sense of smell was