CULVER: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

needs to stay in control,” she
said, taking another sip of her beer.

 
    “Samantha?” Boon said, holding the joint out to me. I thought of my
father, the sheriff, and what he would think of me at that moment. Dad was
actually fairly liberal, and wasn’t really against marijuana, it was just his
job to enforce the law. Still, I thought that he wouldn’t be too happy about me
trying it; then again, he probably wouldn’t be terribly disappointed, either.
Making a split decision, I nodded my head.

 
    Boon smiled and handed me the joint; I looked at it somewhat nervously,
more afraid of looking stupid trying to smoke it than I did about what would
actually happen if I did. I held it to my lips and inhaled deeply; the thick,
smelly smoke hit my lungs like a baseball bat and I coughed, feeling like I was
going to throw up.

 
    I shook my head, still coughing, but was determined to give it another
go, if only to make up for my rather pathetic first attempt. Holding the
burning joint to my lips again, I took a deep inhale, this time pushing away
the desire to cough. Across the table, Boon’s gaze was open and friendly, and I
watched as he grabbed a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, coolly slipping one
into his mouth.

 
    Slip me into your mouth, I thought, seemingly out of
nowhere, as I watched him. I blindly handed the joint to the boy sitting next
to me, exhaling slowly. The smell was actually kind of pleasant, and I looked
around with glazed-over eyes, seeing everything as if for the first time.

 
    The noise in the bar seemed dulled. The music coming from the jukebox
suddenly seemed impossibly beautiful. I wasn’t scared. I felt warm, and giddy,
and excited, and deep. It was like I was thinking from another part of my
brain, one I’d somehow never even known was there. Everything seemed more real
and more ridiculous at the same time, and I had trouble focusing on anything,
including the conversation happening around me.

 
    Alicia and I looked at each other and giggled. Boon was talking to the
two other boys. Becky was just staring at us like we were from another planet.
Suddenly, I felt a jolt of fear out of nowhere as a man came up to the table,
standing behind Boon. Boon turned and looked up at the man; he was much bigger,
bulkier, and hairier than Boon, but had some of Boon’s good looks. Same blonde
hair, same blue eyes, same slanted nose.

 
    “Who are your new friends?” the man said, directing the question to Boon.
Boon seemed a little on edge around this man, but he introduced us each in
turn. I knew I had a stupid smile on my face, but couldn’t seem to get rid of
it for anything. Even when I rose to shake the man’s hand and felt myself
withering under his cold stare, I couldn’t wipe that dumb smile off my face.

 
    “Pleasure,” the man said before turning back to Boon. “Can I talk to you
for a minute, son? In private?”

 
    Boon got up, clearly agitated, and retreated to a dark corner of the bar
with the older man, who I took to be his father. The two boys at the table
exchanged knowing looks.

 
    “Who’s that?” Becky asked.

 
    “Tank. His dad, our leader,” one of the boys said, raising his beer to
his lips and taking a deep swig. “Could be trouble.”

 
    Leader? I thought to myself dazedly,
looking around the bar. Oh. It’s a club, I
thought, finding myself surprised that I hadn’t realized that earlier. Now that
I was looking around, I saw all the men had similar tattoos and patches on
their vests and jackets: the patches read “Cold Steel MC” and featured an image
of a skull with glowing blue eyes. Cool, I
thought. This was obviously a result of the weed and alcohol: sober Samantha,
with her law-enforcement Daddy, knew enough about motorcycle clubs to know they
were no sort of good.  

 
    “What kind of trouble?” Alicia asked, leaning forward, intrigued. I was
intrigued, too. Everything seemed really, really intriguing. Especially the way
the