BAD BOY BIKER NEXT DOOR

TILLY POPE
 CONTENTS

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Epilogue
Also by Tilly Pope
About the Author
Copyright © 2020 by Tilly Pope

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
 ABOUT BAD BOY BIKER NEXT DOOR

Avery
The house next to me has been on the market for months.
So imagine my surprise when I find out it’s been sold.
And my horror when I find out my new neighbor is a freaking biker.
Not some moped riding, cardigan-wearing, nerdy dude either. I mean biker. Tattoos everywhere,
leather jackets and ZERO manners.
The first thing my new neighbor does when he sees me?
A charming pelvic thrust my direction with his music up so loud it rattles my teeth.
What the heck do I do now?

Tank
My cute little neighbor has no idea the things I’d do to her given the chance.
I’d love to touch her. Taste her. Enjoy her.
So when someone breaks into her house, I’m quick to help her.
Out of her panties and into my bed.
Because I might be a bad boy, but I protect what’s mine.
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For all my super yummy over the top readers!
Who’s your daddy?
 1

A very
I wave at Darcie as I head out the door, but she hurries to catch up to me. As much as I
love my job as a bookkeeper at City Hall, I’m not particularly fond of some of the people I
work with. Darcie, though, she’s a friend.
“Hey girl!” She gives me a quick, one arm hug around my shoulders. Darcie is the Amazon of our
workplace. She’s six feet tall without her favorite heels and has the kind of curves that make most
guys stop and stare. I mention this because I love to hide behind her on the days we all go out for a
drink after work. People notice Darcie. So they rarely notice me when I’m tucked behind her.
“Hi Darcie.” I let her pull me close and her long, curly auburn hair tickles my face. Her russet
brown eyes are warm and her smile is so wide I swear I can see every perfect white tooth in her
mouth.
“Any hot plans tonight?”
I grin and roll my eyes. She knows darn well I have no hot plans tonight. Ever since my ex and I
broke up, she’s been trying to tug me out to bars, clubs, and even the rodeo because—as she said to
me with a shrug—save a horse, ride a cowboy.
We walk side by side toward the parking lot. “Yep, a red hot date with a book.”
“A book?” She curls a lip at me in disbelief. “What kind of ride do you get from a book?”
If only she knew the titles I like to read. The steamier, the better. Big, brutish men that take their
women like they’re claiming prizes at the fair. I mean, I tore through Grandma’s bodice rippers at
thirteen and I’ve never looked back.
I bite down on my lower lip. I’m not about to tell Darcie any of that.
“Seriously, a book?” She shrugs and lets me go. I walk beside her with a secret smile on my face.
I’ll get mine tonight, I’m just going to be flying solo for it.
“It’s fine. I’m tired anyway.” That’s the truth. I’m always tired at the end of the day. Especially on
days Stella is on a rampage. I swear that old lady won’t quit until she gets every one of us—and
herself—fired.
“I should set you up with my boy Anthony. We call him donkey, you know?” She waggles her
eyebrows at me as we stop for a car that’s already pulling out of the lot on their way home.
“We?” I ask, peeking up at her. “Who’s we, Darcie?”
She throws back her head and laughs. “You’re asking the wrong questions! Aren’t you curious
why we call him donkey?”
Oh, I’m pretty sure I have an idea why they call him donkey.
 “And he’d love that big booty of yours.” She gives my backside a smack and I laugh despite my
discomfort. She’s not kidding. For a young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl I somehow hit the booty
lottery. Just lucky, I guess.
I tuck my short blonde hair behind my ear. I’d made the mistake of getting the I-want-to-talk-to-
your-manager haircut a month ago and it’s just now beginning to gracefully lengthen. I’m going to A-
line bob it next, but that’s not until it’s a bit longer.
“So do you want his number?” She bumps me with her hip and I nearly sprawl into the gutter as
we reach the other side of the parking lot where we’d parked side by side this morning. She catches
me with an easy laugh and I get my feet under me.
“Oh, no thanks. He sounds… lovely?” That’s a word, I guess. “But I’m just not looking for
anything right now.” I am lonely. But not lonely enough to be Anthony the donkey’s booty call.
“You know,” she says, turning to me with a serious look on her face for once. “You’re not going to
meet someone at home. Unless you think the mailman is hot.”
I scrunch up my face. Old Pete is about a thousand years old and has legs like toothpicks someone
attached ropes to before stretching a pink water balloon over the whole mess. And he refuses to wear
long pants, no matter how cold it gets outside.
Darcie notices my expression and laughs. The sound echoes through the emptying lot and I give
my head a shake before answering her.
“Yeah, that’s gonna be a no.” I don’t think Old Pete is hot. Not one bit.
“Okay, well I’ll see you tomorrow.” She tucks into her shiny BMW and waves at me from behind
the wheel. I wave back and unlock my car. I scan the road and notice a dark shiny sedan that looks
familiar. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end and I smooth my hand over the spot before
lowering myself into the driver’s seat of my car. It’s just a regular car, of course it’s familiar. I’m
being paranoid.
I turn over my engine and pull the seat belt across my chest before pulling out of the lot behind
Darcie. She makes a right out and I left onto the road, my nose pointed toward home.
I turn up the radio, blasting some old love songs and sing my heart out until I get to my street
corner. Turning down the tunes, I stare at the street, too stunned for words. Lining the street in our
super quaint neighborhood filled with older people and newlyweds, are motorcycles of all colors and
builds. I roll up on my driveway and see that the place next door—the one that had just sold last
month—is the source of all the bikers.
And I don’t mean your cutsie grandma motorcycle club, I mean rough and tumble, big burly dudes
covered in tattoos. One of them is throwing up a foot from my front yard even.
I can’t hold back a groan, but I quickly doctor my expression when they turn to look at me. Crap,
crap, crap. I get out of my car amid cat-calls, whistles, and shouts before bending down and grabbing
my purse from the passenger seat.
Loud music suddenly begins pulsing so hard I feel the ground vibrating under my feet. On the
positive side, it drowns out whatever lewd things the guys are shouting at me. I just want to get inside,
curl up with my book and go to sleep.
I knew the house had sold—I mean, it had a bold red sold sticker on the for sale sign out front—
but I didn’t know a biker bought the place. How the heck is our neighborhood going to react?
I scan the road, but not a single elderly face peeks out a lace-curtained window. Not one old man
in his yard shaking a fist and shouting. Nope, it’s like the bikers and I are the only people that even
exist on this whole block.
Maybe they can’t hear the music. Maybe the vibration is soothing. Maybe nobody cares but me.
 But I do care. I’m tired. I want to read for a while, then go to sleep.
As if they’re reading my thoughts and proving they’re bikers that don’t give a fuck about anyone,
they turn the music up.
I sigh. It’s not like I can even call the cops or anything. I mean, if I call the cops, they’ll know it’s
me, right? And I don’t want them to retaliate by burning my house down or whatever it is bikers do
when they’re mad.
I slam the car door closed and the prickling feeling that someone is watching me creeps up the
back of my neck again. I ignore it, sure that it’s from any of the big, hairy, tattooed up bikers that are
watching me right now.
Lifting my chin, I make my way toward my front door. I’ll ignore them. Still, a feeling of unease
settles like a lead anchor in my gut.
How long will I have to ignore them? I mean, if they are my new neighbors…will they party like
this all the time?
No way. I reassure myself that there’s just no way they can keep a party like this going for any
length of time. I bet they’ll carry on for one night. After that, tomorrow afternoon once they’ve slept
off the booze, they’ll dissipate and break off to head their own separate ways.
Right?
 2

T ank
I continue watching the cute young thing with the luscious ass head for her door.
Fuck, when she bends over to grab her bag…all I can think about is shoving balls deep
in her while she screams my name. Goddamn. How long has it been? Too long, too long.
I grunt, hating that my cock is straining against my jeans. But my little neighbor is freaking hot. I
can’t help but wonder if she’s got someone. Some skinny little handlebar mustache sporting, hipster
shithead I’d kick around like a bad habit. Not that I give a fuck if she is seeing someone. I’d still fuck
her. Hell, I’ve fucked willing married women before. When a woman is angry at her husband, she’s
wild in the sack.
But this sweet little thing? If she’s single, I’m going to fuck her.
If she’s attached to some little Sriracha-mainlining, candy vaping bitch boy, I’ll string him up and
show her a good time. Like it should be.
The guys continue whistling and hooting at her as she walks up the front steps to her door. She’s
ignoring all of them and my gut churns with anger. I don’t want these fuckers to lay a hand on her.
Hell, I don’t even want them to look at her.
She’s mine.
I down my beer in a single gulp and crush the can between my thigh and calloused palm before
chucking it aside. At first, I worried I’d fucked up buying this little place in the middle of a fucking
retirement community. That shit wasn’t on the goddamned real estate listing.
Now I’m pretty sure I made a good call. Obviously one of my neighbors isn’t dry as a desert
down below. At least I hope not. Guess I’ll have to find out. If she’s dry, I’ll wet her up. Tongue first,
then raging hard on once she’s all slippery and perfect.
The front door slams. Out the window I see Grunt run out into the yard, roaring at the sky with a
beer in one hand and his .357 in the other.
A grin tugs one corner of my lips. Let him fire that pistol off. Nobody around here would even
hear it. At seven-thirty I’m sure they’ve all got their fake teeth out and their hearing aids turned off.
Except the big assed cutie next door.
What would she do if she heard a gunshot? Would it scare her? Because the thought of her
trembling and scared under the covers while I hold her close is enough to make me go cross-eyed and
precome in my damn jeans. For fuck’s sake, why am I after this big booty bitch so bad?
I grab another beer and head for the door. Guys pat me on the back and roar their congratulations
at me for getting a place. Not that I plan on settling down. I just wanted a home base to call my own.
And this place was in the right price range. Like I said, I didn’t know it was an old folks’ home in a
one mile block, but what the fuck ever.
I let out a bellowing belch and run my hand over my short, dark beard. I’m only fucking thirty-
five, but I found a fucking gray hair in my beard the other day. I’m too young for that shit. Shoving my
fingers through my dark hair, I scan the yard. The fresh, perfect green grass is already flattened in
places from the guys wrestling on it and there are gouges where chairs were pulled across the grass
and exposed the dark soil underneath. Crushed beer cans shine dully and several coolers stand open,
packed with ice and beers.
I crack mine open and chug it down before letting out an ungodly belch and crushing the can. I
notice the hot neighbor’s curtain move and study where I’m pretty sure she’s watching me. A wicked
smile tugs the corners of my lips as I toss the beer can aside and spread my hands her direction in a
clear invitation for her to come get some. With a little pelvic thrust at her, I grin.
The curtain twitches and I let out a laugh. I didn’t think she’d come out and face me. But maybe I
can burn her out. I turn to face my house and cup my hands around my mouth to amplify my voice so
the fuckers inside can hear me.
“Turn it up!” At my shout some sorry bastard turns up the classic rock tunes and I fucking swear
the trees start shivering.
This is how you have a housewarming party. Big burly brothers wrestling over some shit someone
pulled, beers flowing, weed pipes filling the air with the sweet smell of good grass, and the
occasional biker babe ready to flash her tits in congratulation for my new place.
I drop into a chair and watch Curly and Tiny—all five hundred pounds and six feet, four inches of
him—duke it out over Curly’s woman. The broad likes to get wasted and fuck anything with a
rideable cock, so this is a typical scene. This club of mine might not be perfect, but we’re all brothers
at heart. We’ll fight each other, sure, but if anyone fucks with us, all past transgressions within are let
go and we’ll fuck up anyone that dares come at us.
I down my beer as Darla saunters over and stands in front of me with her hands on her wide hips.
Leaning to the right, I peer past her as Curly lands a solid right hook on Tiny’s jaw. Tiny, in return,
bends at the waist and dives into Curly like a fucking bulldozer.
Cheers erupt and Darla shifts to block my view again.
“I’m watching this.” I glare up at her. A lifetime ago we’d come within a whisker of having some
spark, but she’d ground that out with a heeled, black leather boot when she took all the guys on after
losing a round of pool. On the pool table. At the same time.
Now I’m just like any red-blooded man. I enjoyed watching her get all her holes filled. But I don’t
do sloppy seconds. At five foot nine, and a solid one thirty-five that’s mostly in her hips and tits, she’s
fucking sexy as hell. Add cat-like brown eyes and thick black hair, she’s a witch casting mind-fuck
spells but I don’t want any part of that train wreck.
“Well, I’m trying to get your attention.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “I want to thank you
properly for getting us this cute little pad.”
I snort and grab another beer. I need something a hell of a lot stronger if I’m going to be putting up
with her shit. But with the hard liquor out of reach, this beer buzz will have to do. “Us? There’s no us,
darlin’.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously and I feel attention shift to us even as the fight rages on.
“Oh, no? That’s not what you said after—”
“Before you took the whole club’s cocks spread eagle on a pool table.” I take a drink of my beer
and lean the other way to watch the fight. I catch sight of Tiny smashing Curly’s face into his knee and
chuckle. I don’t have many relationship rules, but if a woman is mine, she’s mine. All playing around
aside, of course. If a bitch is married, fucking fine, then. No expectations beyond a good time.
But with Darla… she’d promised to be mine one summer night after a long ride. I’d shown her
where I grew up, let her ride behind me on the streets I grew up on. That’s about as close to sappy
and romantic as I’d get, but trust me, it was more than any other woman has ever gotten from me. And
then she turned around and gone full club whore.
Her face goes an unflattering shade of red, but I don’t feel sorry for her. She made her choice.
“Fuck you!” Her hand flashes out, but I catch her wrist and rise out of my chair. Her eyes go wide,
then fill with heat as I keep her from hitting me and hold her arm hostage. The whole club goes quiet,
save the blaring music as I tower over Darla.
“I don’t generally hit women, but if you hit me first…” I growl the words, letting the threat sink in.
She swallows hard, her eyes filled with lust and fury; a combination I’ve already learned spells
disaster for both of us. We’re like a match to firewood; both of us get burned when we come together.
But fuck, she’s a goddamned good lay. Worth getting singed. But not worth getting some god-awful
STD that’ll rot my dick and make it fall off.
I shove her hand aside and she steps in close and winds snake-like arms around my neck before
pressing her lips to mine. I jerk my head away and instantly my right-hand man, Grunt, pulls her off
me. He drags her, kicking and screaming across the yard before depositing her on her ass far enough
away that neither of us can prove how bad we are for one another.
She scrambles to her feet and Grunt puts a hand out, fingers spread like a spider web on top of her
head and holds her down while she struggles. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He snarls the words at her
and all the fight drains out of her as her knees fall apart.
I watch in disgust as she gives him that same fuck me look I’ve seen on her face before. Looking
away, I notice the cute neighbor’s curtain twitch and wonder if she’s the type to spread her legs for
anyone and everyone that comes along too.
I’m going to find out.
Her face comes into view and she’s staring right at me. I bring my hand to my face, part my index
and middle fingers into a vee shape and wiggle my tongue between them.
She goes bright red and jerks the curtain closed.
I laugh. Oh, damn. Maybe she’s a prude. Fucking fine, I like making a woman blush. Bonus if
she’s a virgin. But one thing is for sure, I’m more determined than ever to find out if my sweet little
big assed neighbor likes a good, hard fuck.
Because if she does…well, I’ll show her how it’s done.
 3

A very
Ugh. I need freaking milk.
I take another sniff of the last bit of milk I have in the fridge, but it’s clearly gone sour
and no matter how many times I try to sniff it again and convince myself it’s okay, it’s not.
I pour it into the sink, watching the water-like liquid that trickles out before solid clumps of milk
plop into the stainless steel basin.
Well, crap. I bite down on my lower lip until it stings and the metallic taste of blood fills my
mouth. The neighbors have been partying for five straight days—at least, as far as I can tell between
working and trying to drown them out—and I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since before they
showed up.
Every last nerve I have is frayed and I’m losing my freaking mind.
I turn on the hot water to run the sour stench of bad milk down the drain while begging my
stomach not to twist up so hard I get sick.
I glance over at the oven. The biscuits are only five minutes in and the sausage is already
browning in the pan. I sigh. I hate turning it all off and rushing to the store, but I don’t see another
option. It’s not like I’m going to make something else out of this, it’s already biscuits and gravy minus
the milk and flour.
“Frick.” It’s my day off and I planned to stay in in my PJ’s and try to get some rest at least, since
the blaring music outside makes it impossible to get any sleep. I didn’t want to go shopping. I wanted
to have some of Gram’s famous biscuits and gravy. Comfort food, some old reruns of Friends and
some attempt to talk myself down from the ledge of sleeplessness and bad thoughts.
I’m not safe to drive. Not in this state of exhaustion.
With another sigh, I walk into the living room and slip on my shoes. I’m not going to let my jerk of
a neighbor ruin my plans to stay comfortable. He might be the world’s biggest, scariest, tatted up
handsome jerk of a neighbor, but I’m not going to let him win this time.
I can walk down to the little store on the corner and grab a half gallon of milk. Sure, I’ll pay more
than I’d pay for a gallon at the supermarket, but I’ll pay more dearly if I get pulled over driving this
tired. Or worse. It’s not worth my life and a potential accident just to save a buck on milk.
I grab my purse and keys before heading for the door. Locking it up behind me I realize I’ve made
an enormous mistake as the bikers next door hoot and holler at me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have worn my pale pink fuzzy PJ bottoms with the little fluffy white sheep
printed on them that fit me like a second skin. Or maybe it’s my light pink top that shows a bit more
skin than I’d dare at work. Or any other time, really.
Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m not wearing a bra and the slight breeze is all it takes to make my
nipples hard. I’m by no means well endowed, so I can get away without wearing a bra, but with the
rough and tumble crowd next door, I should have put one on, I guess.
“Hey baby!” A big guy steps in front of me. I cross my arms around me so he can’t see my nipples.
He’s as wide as he is tall and I try to step around him, staring at the ground all the while. I don’t want
to piss him off or encourage him, so I try to avoid him instead.
Still, with a peek at him, I quickly place him. He’s the guy that dragged the pretty woman away
from the guy that thrust his junk at me and made that lewd gesture with his tongue between his fingers.
And the less savory one is my neighbor. I’d looked it up on neighborhood watch, in case he has a
criminal history. Because, you know, bikers.
I didn’t find anything I needed to worry about, but still.
I shudder in disgust as the memory of the guy making obviously sexual gestures at me fills my
mind. At the same time, a warm tingling settles between my thighs.
“Cold?” He takes off his leather jacket and opens it like he’s going to throw it around my
shoulders, but I step around as the scent of his BO hits me like a homerun softball right to the nose.
He continues moving to keep beside me as the guys in the front yard next door make rude noises.
“I’m Grunt.”
Grunt. Is that even a name? That’s a noise, not a name. I turn onto the sidewalk and keep going
even as he tags along.
I groan internally. Is he really going to follow me all the way to the little corner market? I sure as
hell hope not.
“You know, we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”
I walk faster, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint and matches his speed to mine. The sunshine
splashing down between the trees warms me in time for the shadows to cool me back down. The short
walk is all it takes to get my heart pounding, but this unwelcome chaperone is taking all the enjoyment
out of the walk.
“And I think you’re fucking hot. Pardon my French.”
I glance over at him, unable to believe him. Doesn’t he understand the cues? I’m not interested!
But if I come out and tell him that, will I be safe? I mean, don’t bikers take what they want? Will he
attack me? What the heck do I do?
A feline grin crosses his lips as his brown eyes lock on my face. “Is that what it takes, baby doll?
Do I need to sweet talk you? Should I tell you what I’d do to that sweet pussy of yours?”
I glance at the ground again, my cheeks flaming red. Nope, nope, nope, I don’t want to hear that.
Anger begins to surge in my veins, but I try to shove it back down. Losing my temper with such a
dangerous guy would be stupid.
“I’d lick you until you screamed my name.”
Ew, ew, ew. I shake my head, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint. The corner store is within sight
and I speed up until I’m walking so fast, I must look like I’m all but running from my unwanted visitor.
“What do you think of that?” He’s huffing a bit as he moves. “Want my head between those perfect
thighs?”
Nope, I don’t want that at all.
I don’t answer save for a quick shake of my head. I’m honestly scared of what will happen if I
turn him down. What if he drags me into that alleyway to do the things he’s talking about?
Fear turns the blood in my veins to fire as he steps in front of me and stops me up short only a few
feet from the front door of the corner store. Damn it, so close to safety, but so very far.
“I said, what do you think of my head between your thighs?” He asks it loud enough to turn heads
and my cheeks burn in shame.
“No thanks.” It’s all I can muster. A tiny squeak of an answer.
“No thanks?” He seems stunned by my answer and I wonder if anyone’s ever said no to him
before.
“No thanks,” I say with more force in my voice. “And I really don’t appreciate you following me
here like this and trying to tell me the things you want to do to me.” I take a step closer to him, a
sudden surge of adrenaline rising in me. “I’m not some toy for you to use up and toss aside. Now get
out of my way.”
I step around him and come to a sudden halt as I see my neighbor standing there.
Glaring at him with the full force of my exhaustion and fury, I stare him down.
“Is there a problem here, Grunt?” he asks the guy.
The guy stares at me. “She clearly doesn’t know her place.” He mumbles the words, but I lift my
chin, ready to do battle.
“And what’s my place?” I demand, stepping up to him and glaring into his eyes. “On my knees in
front of you? I’m not your toy. Go fuck yourself.” With that, I storm past him as a hand catches my
wrist.
I snap, striking out at the person holding me back. My neighbor’s blue eyes glitter with fury as my
hand connects with his cheek, leaving a red handprint and leaving me with a sting that echoes down
deep to the bones of my hand.
He leans in and my heart begins to pound out of control in my chest. “I’ll let that one pass because
we’re neighbors. But no one ever hits me.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “I just did. And you need to turn your music down so I can get some
sleep or you might wake up to ashes where your house stood.”
Grunt’s voice lowers to a terrifying growl. “Did you just fucking threaten us?”
But all my attention locks on my neighbor as he tosses his head back and lets out a bellowing
laugh.
Grunt looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You’re going to let this little bitch threaten us?”
My neighbor moves so fast that the motion doesn’t even register until Grunt is on the ground,
blood flowing from his nose as he glares up at us both.
“Call her a bitch again.” My neighbor’s fists are both clenched like a warning and his voice is so
low every hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
All the tats on his arm stand out in the lingering sunshine and I take a moment to study the sleeves.
His blue eyes are blazing with fury and I drink in his dark good looks. He’s freaking hot as hell with
that short beard and dark hair. He’s a man’s man, a manly bastard that would do it for me if he wasn’t
a biker.
But he’s a biker.
And he’s my neighbor.
He’s the reason I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a week.
The guy is bad news and I just don’t have the will or want to put up with someone like that in my
life.
Without another word, I hurry inside, my mind on the milk I came here for. But still, that burly,
tatted up biker keeps sneaking back into my thoughts. Not in a good way, mind you.
A moment later I’m in front of the cooler, considering the milks when I feel someone watching me.
I glance over and internally groan. You guessed it; it’s my neighbor, sans his dick friend.
I grab the milk and let the cooler door slam closed. “What do you want?” Glaring at him, I start up
to the counter, but he blocks my path.
I stop short.
“I’m Tank.” He offers me his hand.
I ignore his hand. “Tank?”
He nods, but I walk right around him.
Who the hell names their kid Tank?
 4

T ank
I follow her as she walks toward the register, the half-gallon of milk she’d picked
up dangling from her fingers.
“I don’t particularly like being ignored.” I stand still, throwing the words like a battle cry. This
little woman is fucking infuriating and sexy as hell. I notice for the thousandth time how well her cute
pink pajama bottoms with fluffy little cloud-like sheep on them fit her wide hips and huge ass. An ass
I’d love to see bouncing as I fucked her doggy-style.
My cock stirs and I grab my waistband to adjust it. I don’t give a fuck if it’s obvious. Let the little
lady see my hard on for her. Maybe she’ll decide she’s up for a good time.
She halts in place, her shoulders squaring up as that spitfire attitude that turned me on so fucking
much wells up in her. I didn’t expect her to be quick-witted hell raiser but seeing her stand up to
Grunt like she did in the parking lot fucking got me harder than hell. Oddly enough, it also brought out
a protective streak in me I didn’t know I had.
She turns to face me, a smile that resembles a smirk on her pretty lips. She stalks right up to me,
her eyes glittering in that fury that sends blood pumping through my veins at double time. All I can
think about as she approaches me is how good she’d look on top of me. Rage in her eyes, tits
bouncing, her body working toward orgasm. My cock pulses and I bite back a curse.
She stops right in front of me without even looking at my dick and glares up at me with those
beautiful, innocent blue eyes. “I don’t give a shit what you like.” Her voice is low and dangerous as
she stabs a fingertip into my chest. “You’ve been a nightmare since you moved in next door to me.
You play music too loud; your friends are disgusting and I swear if they keep objectifying me, I’ll
castrate all of them when they pass out in your goddamned yard.”
A bit of pride rushes through me, a flare of heat following close behind. Damn, she’s fucking sexy
as hell when she’s pissed off. Nobody has ever stood up to me like this before. Sure, Darla gets hot
when I’m mad, but when she’s mad, she tries to make me jealous by giving other guys attention. It’s
not the same.
She steps closer, her finger still poking into my chest as I hold back my amusement. “And you!
You’re the worst with all your sexual passes.” Her expression twists like she’s eating something sour.
“All your pelvic thrusting and tongue wiggling.”
I nod, proud of myself. “I’m romantic too, I air kiss your direction too.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Romantic? You meant the kisses where you stick your tongue out and pretend
you’re licking my pussy?” She says it loud enough people look our way. Her cheeks redden and she
lowers her voice. “You’re revolting.”
“You like it, don’t you?” I ask. I can see the heat in her eyes. I can almost taste her cunt and fuck;
it’s got me raging hard and ready for her right in the middle of this shitty little corner store.
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to; her body sure as fuck responds to me.
Her eyes dart back and forth between mine and the evil little smile I’ve been holding back finally
tugs the corners of my lips. Fresh anger fills her face as I speak. “You really know how to get a man
in the mood. So my place or yours?”
Her eyes narrow. “What the fuck makes you think I want you?” Despite her fury, I can see the
confusion on her face.
I nod at her perfect tits. Her nipples have hardened to little points begging for my mouth and fuck,
I want to taste them. The little pink crop top shows off just a tiny bit of her belly and the u-shaped
collar dips low enough to show me the tops of her small, pert perfect fucking tits. I wanna lick them,
suck them, tease them until she begs me to fuck her.
She glances down, then her cheeks turn bright red. “It’s cold in here.” But she doesn’t sound
convinced by her own words and I take another step closer.
I lean in until I was a whisper from her ear and speak in a low voice. “It feels warm to me. Are
you sure it’s not your body wanting me?”
She shivers, but her expression turns full fuck you. “I just grabbed milk out of the cooler. I’m
cold. And I’m in my PJ’s because my asshole neighbor has kept me from getting a good night’s sleep
all week.”
She means me. I’m that asshole. And I genuinely feel bad about it.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Can we start over?” I’d already gave Grunt a warning
and told him she’s off limits. I didn’t doubt the word would spread like wildfire once he got back. By
the time this sweet young lady got home, everyone would be avoiding her and they’d know she’s
mine.
“Fine. But only if you let me buy this so I can get home.” She sighs. Her stomach grumbles as she
says the words, so I nod. We move toward the registers and she’s friendly with the cashier. The young
man seems head over heels for her and I want to punch him in the dick so fucking bad for even
looking at her like that.
“Your total is three fifty.” He smiles at her and I let out a rude snort. He carefully ignores me, but
she glances up at me, surprise in her lovely eyes as she pulls the cash out of the little money clip on
her keyring. I can’t help but wonder if she’s always this unsafe with her cash or if the exhaustion she
was talking about has had that big an effect on her decision making.
I glare at the cashier; whose shoulders drop like he’s trying to make himself invisible. “That’s
highway robbery. Three fifty for a half-gallon of milk? You can buy an entire gallon for that up the
road.”
The poor kid stammers. “I don’t make the prices…I just work the register.”
“You said you’d let me buy this.” She arches an eyebrow at me and I shut my mouth.
She’s quick to give the idiot kid a sweet smile. “It’s okay. I made the choice to come here
knowing I’d pay more. See, I’ve got this neighbor that plays music way too loud, so I wasn’t safe to
drive. This place is walking distance from my house, so it works out.”
“Maybe you should have your boyfriend talk to the loud neighbor,” the kid says, his gaze sliding
my direction. “I bet they’d be quieter.”
“You know, I might just do that,” she says, taking her milk and sliding it off the counter before
heading for the door with a sway to her hips that dries up my mouth.
 Wait… does she have a boyfriend? Or did she understand what he was saying? She’s tired, so
maybe the significance went right over her head.
“Yeah,” I say, catching up to her as she pushes the door open. “Maybe you should have your
boyfriend talk to your asshole neighbor.”
“Well, I would… but I’m single.” She smiles up at me as we step into the sunshine. She’s quick to
hold the door open for an old man that reeks of booze and stares at her tits with an appreciative stare
before heading inside, no doubt to buy more liquor.
I let him go without smashing in his face with my itching knuckles only because she’s on the move
again. I chase her down again, wondering if this will be a new theme with us. Because I don’t chase
women. I never have. And I never will.
“You understood what he was saying, right?” I stare at her, unsure if she missed that the cashier
was saying I was her boyfriend and she should have me talk to her asshole neighbor… which is
fucking hilarious because I am the asshole neighbor.
She laughs again as she steps off the curb and I realize I like the sound. The second she steps off
the curb I glance up and watch a car whip through the parking lot.
It all happens in a flash.
I grab the back of her shirt and pull her back into my arms.
The car zooms right into the parking spot she’d just stepped into seconds ago.
She stares up at me in shock and I kick the front bumper of the car with all my might. The bumper
falls off, and the guy flips me off but stays in his car and locks the door.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, dickhead!” I roar the words at him and he grips the steering
wheel like he’s holding a newspaper and shitting himself.
“I’m okay.” She says in a soft voice while studying my face. “I’m okay. You can let me go.”
I realize I’m gripping her to my body so tight she might have trouble breathing. Letting her go, I
place both hands on her shoulders until I’m sure she’s steady on her feet.
She continues to stare at me, her eyes wide and overheated.
“I’m sorry if I overreacted,” I say as the guy continues to hide in his car like a goddamned
coward.
“It’s okay.” Her breathless voice brings my cock to life and I let out an internal curse, trying to
talk my boner back down like a bad dog.
She begins to walk and I fall into step beside her. “Are you going to get in trouble for that?” she
asks, gesturing at the guy’s car. His bumper is on the ground and he’s staring at his lap like his limp
dick has all the answers.
“I fucking hope so.” I didn’t give a shit if he called the cops on me. Let the fuck try to get me in
trouble.
She let out a nervous giggle. “You’re exactly what I expected in some ways. But not in others.
Does that make sense?”
I lifted a shoulder as we made it safely to the sidewalk and headed back toward our houses. “Not
really.”
“Well, I expected you to be a dick. A pervert. An asshole.” She grins sheepishly up at me as if
she’s worried her very accurate assessment of my character will offend me. But I wear those titles
like a badge of goddamned honor.
“But I didn’t expect you to be protective of me, or to hit your friend for calling me a bitch.” An
odd warmth fills her eyes.
Anger flares through me at Grunt’s behavior. I knew where he was coming from. If it was anyone
else but her that had threatened us, I’d have backed him one hundred percent. But this little lady has
every right to be pissed at us. And she has me all fucked up. Grunt knows that now.
“I still don’t know what to make of you.” I glance down at her as we walk a slow, easy pace
toward her place. I know what I want—I want to get in her pants. I know I’ll get it—she’s putting off
all the right signals with that shy little smile and extra sway of her hips. But I’m not sure if it’s going
to be enough to just fuck her like I thought it would be in the beginning.
“I think that’s a compliment.” She shifts the half-gallon of milk to her other hand. “So thank you.
And thank you for walking me home.”
“I just want to make sure you get home safe. And it’s not really out of my way.” We’re fucking
neighbors. It’s not like I’m going the wrong direction just to walk her home.
“I’m going to make some homemade biscuits and gravy,” she says, her eyes telling me she’s not
quite sure why she’s telling me this as a car passes us on the quiet road. “My grandma’s recipe. I
always make too much because I can never find just for one biscuit or sausage.” A smile dances
across her pretty lips as she speaks and I stay locked on her, unable to look away.
She inhales, inflating her ribs and accentuating her perfect tits. “What I’m trying to say is, would
you like to come over for some biscuits and gravy?”
“That depends. Is your grandma there?”
She stops, her expression stunned as she stands there in a patch of sunlight. “Of course not. She
lives in Arizona.”
I lift both hands at the elbows so they’re about flush with my shoulders in a position of surrender.
“Just wondering. I wouldn’t want to give your dear old Granny a heart attack.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” She doesn’t sound sure and I wonder if she’s reconsidering her offer to
feed me as we move toward her place again. Her hand rubs the back of her neck and she looks behind
us, a troubled look in her eyes.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah. I’m just tired.”
She looks tired. The dark smudges under her eyes remind me of delicate bruises and her
movements seem a bit slowed from that first day.
“I am sorry we’ve been terrorizing you.” I mean the words. And that’s surprising. I’ve never once
felt an ounce of remorse for living my life the way I fucking please. I’ve never once given a damn
about the impact my choices might have on another human being.
Her head tilts as she glances up at me. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
I nod.
“So you’ll turn down the music? And tell your guys to stop staring at me and making rude noises
and gestures every time they see me?” The hopeful look in her eyes warms some long lost part of me.
“I’ll turn down the music and tell the guys to fuck off.” Because you’re mine. But she doesn’t
know that part yet.
She’ll know soon enough and I have a feeling she’s going to love every second of it.
“Thank you,” she says as we come within a few houses of her place. I can already see that my
yard is empty and don’t hear any music. I guess Grunt took my words seriously. There’s not a beer
bottle or passed out drunk fat fuck in sight.
“It’s quiet,” she breathes the words as we walk right up in front of her house. Her eyes fill with
worry as she studies the front of her place and every muscle in my body stiffens up. That need to
protect her kicks me in the dick and I just kick into autopilot as natural as breathing.
“Get in your car and call nine one one,” I tell her before crossing the yard, one hand on the butt of
my .357.
 5

A very
“No way! I’m coming with you.” I stand by his side and he looks down at me like I’ve
lost my mind. And maybe I have. Since when do I think it’s a good idea to charge into a
place with an unknown threat?
I ignore him and continue to stare at my wide open front door. Someone has broken in, obviously,
but who would do that? And why?
Had Grunt gotten pissed and lay in wait for me?
There was a suspicious lack of dudes and mess next door. Maybe they’d robbed my place and
took off?
What if the robber was still inside? A chill crept up my spine and goose bumps raced across my
skin at the thought of some stranger going through my things, touching my stuff, and otherwise
terrorizing my living space.
I’ve never been robbed before. This area has the lowest crime rate in the whole damn city. That
was my main reason for moving here. That and I knew that being surrounded by elderly neighbors
meant I’d be left alone. No loud, obnoxious kids to blow up my mailbox, no nosy neighbors, no
parties. Man, I was wrong on that one. But not because of the elderly neighbors, of course. That was
all thanks to the guy next to me playing savior and making my belly flip-flop.
“You are not coming with me.” He eyes me with a look of disbelief and shifts his hand under his
worn black leather vest. I’m not sure why his hand is tucked away, but it’s strange and I glance away.
“It’s my house. I want to come in.” I set the milk down on my driveway and take a stance with a
hand on my hip and lift my chin into a defensive position. “And you can’t stop me.”
A slight grin tugs the corners of his lips, but it’s an evil smile that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Oh, I can stop you, I promise.” He arches an eyebrow at me. “This is serious, sweetheart.” I try to
ignore how him calling me sweetheart spikes my pulse, but his eyes drop to the hollow at the base of
my throat and I know he sees the effect that word has on me.
Thankfully, he just continues talking rather than drawing attention to my confusing reaction to him.
“There could be someone in there robbing the place. They might have a gun.” He steps in closer to
me, his voice lowering to a growl. “What do you think they’re gonna do if you bust in on them?”
I swallow hard. I know exactly what he’s saying might happen. “Shoot me?”
He nods, very slowly as if to emphasize his point. “Worse things than getting shot for a woman,
right?”
I suck in a deep breath as my eyes dart back and forth between his. I know what he’s implying. I
know he’s trying to scare me into submission and it’s freaking working. “They might rape you first,
then kill you. So why don’t you just wait here and call nine one one?”
“You wouldn’t let that happen.” I stare him down and his brows rise a fraction of an inch. “You
wouldn’t let some low life criminal scum rape me. I know that.”
His jaw ripples as he grits his teeth and I know I’ve struck a nerve. “I don’t want to have to worry
about you in there.”
Warmth flows freely through me as his words wash over me like warm rain. “What about you?” I
ask, holding my breath a moment. I watch him with a very real concern for his safety. Sure, this guy
has been making my life miserable for a week, but I don’t want him to die over it. And I especially
don’t want him to die protecting me. How could I live with that hanging over my head for the rest of
my life?
His blue eyes warm right up and he runs a hand through his short, dark hair, messing it up even
more. “Are you worried about me?” His tone turns almost playful and I forget the gravity of the
situation for a second.
I blink. Am I worried about him? Really? I’m worried about this big biker dude I watched break
the nose of his friend for calling me a bitch. The guy that pulled me back when a car almost hit me
before breaking the guy’s damn bumper? I mean, clearly, he can take care of himself. Still…
“Yes, I’m worried about you. Is that so hard to believe?” I squint up at him as amusement washes
over his features. Is it really so weird I don’t want him to die? I sigh, that playful air of his extending
to me. “I mean, if someone shoots you in my house I’ll have to talk to the cops and there will be a
mess to clean up…”
His eyebrows jump up a bit and I continue talking while holding back a smile.
“And I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep in a week. I’m not up for this crap.” I can’t hold back
the grin anymore and he chuckles.
“You’re cute. And you’ve made your point. I’ll be careful. Now get in your car and call nine one
one.” His expression hardens as something inside my place crashes. We both glance at the open door
as I try to figure out what just broke. “Now,” he growls and I glance at him again. “Don’t make me hog
tie you.”
Excitement screams through me. “You wouldn’t dare.” Oh, god, why am I challenging him? What
is wrong with me?
But his glare tells me he’s seriously thinking about it. And now so am I. The thought of being tied
up and at his mercy… oh my.
I exhale and give a quick nod. “I’m going, I’m going. Please be careful.”
“I will.” His attention is already back on my place as I head to my car. Glancing over my
shoulder, I see him pull a gun I didn’t even know he had on him. That’s why he had his hand under his
vest like that; he has a gun! I stare at him in shock as he ambles carefully up the steps. Gun trained in
front; he looks into my house before swinging wide to look the other direction with the finesse of an
ex-cop. I say ex-cop because no way is my biker a cop. Maybe an ex-cop, but not an active one.
I get in my car and lock the doors as if that’ll keep out whoever’s destroying my house right now.
Maybe I’m stupid. But with the doors locked, I do feel a tiny bit safer. Now I need to call nine one
one. I run a hand down my hip looking for my pocket and remember I’m in my PJ’s. I brought cash to
the corner store and my keys so I could get back into my house.
My phone is inside.
In mind’s eye, I can see it on the arm of my couch right next to the book I’d planned to read tonight
while gorging on homemade biscuits and gravy. Crap. What the fuck am I going to do now? What if
someone gets hurt?
I glance at the house. Could I sneak in and grab it? With a shake of my head, I decide against that
crazy idea. Somehow, I think going in there with an armed, potentially trigger-happy biker and some
unknown criminal wouldn’t be safe for me. Besides, Tank told me to stay put.
I stare at the open door in horror. I kind of like the guy now. Sure, he was a dick and crude and
disgusting at first… but now? Now he’s shown himself to be protective, alpha and even kind of sexy.
He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s proven he’s not all bad.
I don’t want him to get hurt.
But what can I do? I don’t have my phone. I don’t want to leave my car to go to the neighbor’s
house in case something happens.
I sit, agonizing over all the things I can’t do.
But I keep coming back to that one thought; I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s helping me. He’s
being a good man. And I don’t want him to get hurt.
 6

T ank
The first thing I notice about her house is the sweet smell of her. I inhale, forgetting
the gravity of the situation for a second. Over her almost floral scent I catch the
mouthwatering scent of sausage. I swallow hard, remembering how she’d invited me back to eat
biscuits and gravy with her.
At first, I just thought it was a euphemism, and she was really having me come over to fuck her.
But now I was pretty sure she was serious about the food part. And biscuits and sausage gravy are
one of my fucking all-time favorites comfort foods… if it’s done right.
Trying to focus back on the task at hand, I clear the kitchen and move into the living room. I see
her phone and a book right there on the arm of the couch. I touch the button and her phone screen
flickers to life; no password required. Good.
I make a mental note to talk to her about that and her safety later. For now, I say a silent thanks to
the powers that be that I can get into it and dial nine one one. I leave the phone right where it is and
scan the room. Stepping behind the couch, I find no one there, but don’t lower my gun.
There’s a fifty-five inch TV on an entertainment center and there’s a laptop in one of the cubbies
in plain sight. And while I admire her taste in modern, dark minimal furniture, I also wonder what the
fuck the person in the house is here for if not her valuables. Something doesn’t feel right.
I move down the hallway into the first open door, gun raised and ready as I step into a bedroom.
The room is very obviously hers. My gaze sweeps over her pretty teal and silver bedspread. The
colors really stand out against the dark oak sleigh headboard. I curb thoughts of knocking that
headboard into the wall while fucking her rough because there’s someone in the room. And at the
matching dresser a dude stands with his back to me, going through her drawers.
Watching him pet his fingertips over every pair of panties in her drawer has my lip curling in
disgust. Who the fuck is this fuck? And why is he here?
I silently back out and make a quick pass at the other rooms so no motherfucker can sneak up and
get the drop on me. But there’s no one else; just the damn pervert in her room.
I pad silently back into her room with anger and adrenaline thumping like bass in my blood. The
guy is still standing there running his fingertips over her bra cups like he’s touching her skin. And my
fucking skin crawls. This is some next level sick shit.
I ease right up behind him and push the barrel of my gun to the back of his head.
Drinking in details, I commit everything to memory. He’s shorter than I am by several inches. He’s
got on a blue tee shirt and stained, dirty jeans. The smell of gasoline clings to him and I have a feeling
I know what he likes to do in his spare time; burn shit down.
“I fucking dare you.” I was daring him to fight me, to lash out, to give me any reason to blow his
fucking brains all over her pretty, ultra-feminine room.
“Wha—” He puts both hands up. “Are you the fucking cops?”
An evil smile tugs the corners of my lips. You wish I was a cop, you son of a bitch. But I’m not.
“I’ll ask the questions. Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m Avery’s boyfriend!”
“Turn. The. Fuck. Around. Slowly or I might get excited and pull the fucking trigger.” Does she
have a boyfriend after all? And why does the thought hit me like heartburn after an all week whiskey
bender on an empty stomach? My whole chest blazes white hot as the guy turns around. His brown
hair curls a bit to his collar and I expect some redneck looking mother fucker.
But no, the guy is good looking in a Ted Bundy kind of way. He looks like the kind of guy to eat a
woman’s pussy before cutting her face off and wearing it over his own. His brown curly hair frames
his face a bit and he has one of those seventies rapist moustaches that’s all patchy and fucking gross.
His heavy brow line and deep set green eyes try to intimidate, but just make him look like a crazy
fuck. With cheekbones that could cut glass and a jawline just as sharp, the only soft thing about him is
his full lips. And I hate that I can imagine her with this fuckface.
Still, I’ve never seen him before. I’ve been living next door for more than a week now. I’d have
seen this fuck if he was her boyfriend, right? And I’ve been looking for anyone other than her, too,
because I want to fuck her. I haven’t seen this bastard. Not once.
But what if I’m wrong?
Without another word I lunge forward and wrap an arm around the guy’s throat before hauling him
forward.
“The fuck are you doing?” He hits my forearm before lashing out like he can hit me from his bent
forward position. Of course he can’t land a single solid blow, but I have to admire the fight in him.
“Don’t make me shoot you.”
I’ve never seen the guy in my life. Besides, we just talked about this and she admitted that she’s
single. So who the fuck is this guy and what is he doing here perving around in her house?
With my arm still locked around his throat, I drag him toward the front door. He shouts like I’m
cutting his dick off with the dull side of a plastic spoon as I pull him through the kitchen toward the
door. His feet go out from under him and he scrambles as all his weight comes down on his neck. I
lower him down a bit and let him catch himself.
“Stop being a pussy. You’re coming with me. You don’t have to squeal like a scared pig.” I’m
tired of this little bitch already. I hope that Avery says he’s not her boyfriend so I can kick his ass.
I step through the open door, pulling him after me. Avery watches me come out, her eyes filling
with terror as she sees who I’m bringing out. I straighten the guy up and force him to stand upright as
she opens her car door but keeps it between her and the guy I’m holding like a shield.
“This prick is claiming to be your boyfriend,” I say as the idiot struggles. Putting another hand on
the back of his head, I think about how easy it would be to snap his neck. But she’s watching. I focus
on her as she shakes her head slowly, her eyes never leaving his face.
“He’s my ex. And he’s fucking crazy.” The tremble in her voice makes me want to kill this bastard
right now.
As she speaks, the first cruiser comes down the street and parks in front of her place. A cop gets
out, his hand on his gun and Avery quickly speaks out.
“Officer Jacobs!” Her relief echoes from her voice to her features.
 The officer nods. “Miss Avery, are you okay? We got a call—”
“—Yeah, I’m glad I had a friend here tonight, because that asshole’s back.”
The officer looks me over and I hold back that little stab of nerves I always feel around cops. He
walks over to me and I let the fucker go. The officer quickly arrests the guy, recites his rights and
leads him back toward the waiting squad car as another cop rolls by.
As soon as they pull away from the curb, I turn to my cute little neighbor. Her eyes are wide and
anxious and I pick up the half gallon of milk and put an arm around her shoulders. Leading her inside,
I think about the food and my stomach grumbles a little. But I don’t give a damn about it. I’m just glad
she’s safe.
With her under my arm, we walk up into her place and I think about what’s waiting for her and
how afraid and violated she must feel.
It’s weird, all this worry for a fucking stranger. A cute stranger, but still. I set the milk on the
counter and take both her shoulders in my hands. Turning her to face me, I duck my head and peer into
her lovely eyes.
“Hey, I’ll be right next door if you need anything. Anything.”
She nods, but there’s still a stunned look in her eyes that bothers me. So I walk over to the fridge.
On it is a little note pad just for making grocery lists with a pen hanging from it. I pick up the pen, and
write my name and number, then a short note so she knows I’m serious.
I walk back over to her. “Hey.” She looks up at me with wide, worried eyes and I want to pull her
into my arms and tell her it’ll be okay. But, instead, I keep my hands to myself and jerk my head
toward the fridge. I won’t take advantage of her vulnerable headspace. “You’ve got my number now.
Call, text, or come over anytime.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Without another word, I head for the door. I stop and glance at her, worried about her and wanting
nothing more than to stay. But I have a feeling she needs space and privacy since that asshole invaded
both.
When I step outside into the fresh air, I wonder what the fuck is wrong with me. Since when do I
give a fuck how a woman feels other than if she wants to fuck me?
I shrug the thoughts away, and head across the yard toward my place as another cop rolls by,
watching closely. I wave at him, resisting the urge to flip him off and he gives a slight, curt nod before
creeping past.
I hurry into my place, feeling the quiet with every fiber of my being. It’s never this quiet. It’s
just… wrong. I don’t like hearing my thoughts and they all seem to center on one blue eyed, blonde-
haired, big peachy assed woman.
Fuck.
I grab a beer and walk into my living room. Darla is spread eagle on my favorite chair, totally
naked, her fingers fiddling with her snatch. “Finally. I thought you’d never get back.” Her purring
voice turns my stomach.
“Fucking Christ,” I say, looking away from her and spitting the words out. “Put some goddamned
clothes on and get the fuck out.”
“What?” The quiet fury in her voice is a warning.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I don’t know how much more clear I need to be. I’m not interested. I’ll
never want another piece of what she’s offering. I want her to walk out of my life forever. “You’re not
welcome here. If I see you again, I’ll turn you in.”
“For what?” She scoffs.
 “For that blow I know is in your pocket right now. For the thousand bucks you made after taking it
up the ass from that fat, rich guy. For the meth you sold to that teenager last week.”
“I didn’t sell no kid meth.” Her anger brings a smile to my lips. Check-motherfucking-mate.
“But you’ve got blow and you whore out for cash. Both are a crime. Now get the fuck out. I don’t
want to see your face again.” I’m still refusing to look at her and she hesitates.
Suddenly she bolts out of my chair and grabs her clothes. Muttering curses, she puts one foot into
her jeans and hops around to pull them up. “Fuck you too.” She pulls on her shirt and walks up to me,
ready to hit me.
I silently dare her to do it. I don’t hit women, but she knows if she hits me first, all bets are off.
“I hope you die.” She snarls the words and I can’t hold back a laugh.
“Fuck you!” She shouts, but I can’t stop laughing as she rushes out the door. I follow her, laughing
so hard I’ve got tears in my eyes as she crashes through the front door. On my step is my cute
neighbor. She and Darla look one another over for a second, then both women look at me before
Darla pushes past and hurries off.
I glance at my neighbor, curious what she’s going to do next when I notice the Tupperware bowl
in her hands.
She turns to face me, then presses the container into my hands. “I promised you biscuits and
gravy.” A smile crosses her lips.
“You don’t owe me anything.” I want to touch her face, stroke her soft cheek… feel her skin. But I
keep my hands off.
Her smile widens. “I hope you like it. Have a good night.” She steps back and turns around to
leave, then hesitates. Spinning slowly around, she fixes that pretty smile on me again.
“And thank you. For everything.”
 7

A very
“I know that look.” Darcie plops down next to me at my desk.
I smile at her knowing there’s no way I can fool her. “What do you mean?” Sure, I can
feign innocence, but she’s going to catch on. I’m pretty sure she already has.
“That little smile? Girl, you’ve got more than a book boyfriend. You got a good night’s sleep.”
She lifts both eyebrows. “Did you get a good night’s sleep because—”
“The neighbor was quiet.” I don’t want her spilling what she thinks happened in front of everyone.
Not that anyone is listening.
“Quiet, huh? I love me a man that moans, personally.” Her wicked smile and pretty mauve lipstick
match beautifully. The same soft color graced her flowy blouse and I wish I had an ounce of her style.
She knows exactly how to dress for maximum wow-factor while I sit here in my white button down
and navy pencil skirt like some new hire.
“No, I mean there’s been no music.” It was so quiet last night I played some soft music just so I
could sleep. I haven’t told her about my ex breaking in or my sexy freaking biker neighbor taking out
the garbage for me.
“There’s more.” She plants an elbow on my desk and curls her fingers before resting her chin on
her knuckles.
“My ex broke in yesterday.” My voice is barely more than a whisper. Darcie is one of very few
people that know about that tumultuous relationship. She’d even let me crash at her place when things
got really scary.
Her eyes widen. “You called the cops?”
I nod. “My neighbor actually went in the place. He caught him and turned him over to the cops.”
“Is he hot?”
“Jacobs?” I play dumb even though I know she’s asking about my neighbor. “I mean he’s in
uniform, so sure. But he’s married, I think.”
“Not the cop, dummy. The neighbor.” Her eyes narrow and I know she’s on to me.
I nibble my lower lip. “Well… he’s tall. Tatted up. And he carries a gun.”
“Mmm.” Darcie closes her eyes as if imagining him as I think about him.
“He’s a biker. Built like a linebacker. Dark hair, blue eyes.” A nice smile. A good heart even if
he’s rough around the edges.
“So when are you going to sleep with him?” Darcie asks.
I laugh. “I’m not like that, Darcie. I mean, I doubt he’s even interested.” I know he’s interested. I
can see the heat in his eyes and feel that pull between us. Last night, I’d heard him order that woman
out of his house and I know he told her not to come back. Whatever history they have, he’s over her.
Which means maybe he’s on to someone else.
And maybe that someone else is me. My cheeks warm up and Darcie’s smile grows. “You like
him!”
“Shh.” I put a finger over my lips as someone walking by glances at us in shock. “I hated him at
first,” I whisper, watching Gary walk past, his head suddenly higher like he thought Darcie meant him.
“All that loud music and gross gestures.” I shuddered, thinking about how lewd he is.
“But…” Darcie prods me.
“Well, he’s rough and rugged, but he didn’t hesitate to put himself in danger for me. He took on my
ex and freaking hauled him out of my house in a headlock.” I giggle, remembering the fear in my ex’s
eyes. It was kind of nice to see him being the one dragged around for once. Maybe now he knows how
he made me feel.
“He what?” Darcie laughs, dragging more attention our way.
“He dragged my ex out of my house in a friggin’ headlock. Then he turned him over to the cops.”
And he’d been so insistent I not come in. And he was right; who knows what my ex might have
done… especially if I show up with another guy.
“You need to invite him out.” Darcie crosses her arms and glares at me in that mother-hen way of
hers.
“What?” I try to laugh her off, but she snatches up my phone and holds it out of my reach.
“You ask him out or I will.” Her serious expression tells me she’ll do it, too. It’s not just a hollow
threat.
“Okay, okay. I’ll do it.” I hold my hand out for my phone and she stares at me a second with
suspicion in her eyes before lowering my phone to my palm. I’d programmed his number into my
phone last night and took it to bed, ready to call or text at the slightest noise.
Want to get dinner tonight?
I turn the phone toward Darcie and she lights up. “He already responded.” My phone chimes,
proving her right and I turn the screen back toward me.
Hell yes.
My heart flutters in my chest. How the hell do I get through the rest of my workday and focus on
anything now?

I’m happy when Tank pulls me into a bear hug that sends tingling heat through every part of me.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly into my ear.
“I am.” It’s the truth. Despite the ugly encounter yesterday, I’m doing great. I’m excited to have
dinner with my big biker neighbor. “You clean up nice,” I tease as I notice his clean white tee shirt
and black heavy work pants. His hair is combed neatly and his tats are still on full display, but he
looks like he could be a freaking male model.
He flashes me a dark look that sends my heart beating double time. “Thanks.”
Something tells me he wants to see me get dirty and I can hardly breathe as he walks next to me
toward our table only a few steps behind the waitress. I’d picked my favorite place. Nothing fancy,
just a cute little diner with good food, nice people and the best darn homemade pie around.
 We sit down and the waitress smiles at me, a nervous look in her eyes. “What can I get you two to
drink?”
“A beer.” Tank sprawls back, taking up the entire booth across from me and I try to hide a grin.
“Water?” I ask her.
“Water?” Tank arches an incredulous eye at me.
“I still have to drive home,” I say and the girl hurries off. He’s staring at me like he’s confused
and I sigh. “I have never and will never drink and drive.”
“So I’ll take you home.”
“You’re drinking!” He doesn’t seem to get it.
“One beer won’t even push me over the legal limit. Trust me, I’m fine.” As the words leave his
lips, I see realization dawn on him and he focuses on me. “You’re worried about me.”
My mouth drops open. “Of course I’m worried. I don’t want you to die. I don’t want anyone to
die.”
But warmth fills his features and as the girl comes back with my water and his beer, he gives her a
smile. “I changed my mind, miss. I’m sorry. I’ll pay for it, but I don’t want it. Can I get a glass of
water?”
She leaves and I stare at him, stunned. He catches my eye and shrugs. “I don’t want you to worry.”
I just stare at him. He’s really not what—or who—I thought. Not how I expect a real biker to be.
And I’m excited to talk to him and eat dinner.
“Thank you,” I say.
But he shrugs it off again. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Maybe not to you.” But it’s a big deal to me. He just decided not to do something simply to keep
me from worrying. That’s a big deal. He didn’t have to do that and I know it.
“What’s good here?” he asks, clearing his throat and picking up his menu. But I’m not going to
forget.
I open my menu. “Everything. But the pie is fantastic.”
His gaze locks on me over his menu and he licks his top lip. “I love pie.”

After dinner, we step out into the cool night air and he glances at me.
“I had fun, thank you.” I stand there, not wanting things to end. I didn’t expect him to pay the
check; I put my card down, and he snorted and shoved it back toward me before throwing down cash
while saying something about being old school.
And now I realize I don’t feel like I owe him anything, even though he paid. It’s a good feeling.
He’s not pressuring me to do anything or making some sick comment about how I owe him.
He glances at me from beside his bike. Then he lifts a helmet toward me. “Come for a ride with
me.”
I shake my head. “I’ve never been on a Harley before.”
“First time for everything.” He gestures again with the helmet. “I’ll bring you back to get your car
later.”
I step forward. I really want to go with him. I trust him. Maybe that’s stupid, but there it is. Pulling
the helmet on, I step off the curb toward him as he throws a leg over the bike. I put a hand on his
shoulder and climb on behind him.
 “Hold on to me. Tight.” He pulls my hands around his waist and I move my hand up, feeling tight
muscles under his shirt. He kicks the engine to life and I flinch at how loud it is. Then he pulls away
from the curb and my heart jackhammers my chest painfully as I cling to him.
He weaves past a car and I feel the push of the wind as I suck in a deep breath. It’s not as scary as
I think. It’s kind of… fun. The rumble makes my clit tingle and being pressed up against him like this
is so damn intimate my pussy aches. But this feeling, his hard body, the wind in my face…it’s
magical.
All too soon he pulls into his driveway.
“Ready for me to take you back for your car?” he asks as I cling to him. I shake my head no and
climb off the motorcycle before taking off my helmet.
“That was fun!” Excitement bursts out of me as the tingling low in my core intensifies. He stands
up and pulls his long leg over the bike in a way that makes me heat right up. As he walks toward me, I
feel myself melting and he grabs me.
His lips come down on mine and the helmet, dangling from my hand, thuds softly on the grass.
Suddenly, he’s backing me toward his house, or I’m pulling him; I’m not sure who started moving
first.
He opens the door he’d left unlocked and picks me up in his arms, his lips locked on mine. When
his teeth close on my lower lip, I whimper, my whole body lighting up like a Christmas tree.
I feel the bed under me as his hand comes up around my throat. Excitement fills me and my hips
tilt, begging him for me. His fingers easily dig into my skin, hindering blood flow to my brain—not
that much blood was getting through anyway—and I melt into the bed.
“I’m not gentle.” He growls the words at me and my mouth goes dry as his dark eyes lock on
mine.
“Good.” It’s all I can say. I don’t want gentle.
With a sharp noise, he lets go of my throat and flips me. “I’ve been dreaming about watching your
beautiful ass bounce while I fuck you.”
I exhale every last molecule of air in my lungs at his incredibly sexy words. Nobody has ever
talked so dirty to me and it’s strangely exhilarating.
“But first…” He trails off and yanks open my prim and proper work shirt. Buttons scatter
everywhere and I gasp in protest. “I’ll buy you a new one,” he growls, pulling off the cami I’d worn
under it to hide that I’m not wearing a bra.
My nipples tighten to points instantly and he growls as he lowers his head, sucking so hard it hurts
and I want more.
I grab his head as he pins me to his bed, both legs outside mine and the length of his cock pressed
to me in a way that makes me feel faint.
I need more.
My fingers fumble with my skirt zipper and I work it down across my ass as he moves to my other
nipple with a glazed-over look in his incredible eyes.
Wiggling free of my skirt, I work my panties down with one thumb as he gives me a tiny bit of
space between us to work with. He pulls back as if realizing what I’m doing and suddenly, he grinds
out a curse.
“Fuck, you’re so goddamned sexy.” With that, he spins me around and bends me over the bed. I let
out a stunned little cry and he pushes me down with a single hand between my shoulder blades. My
heart thunders and I thrust my ass toward him, silently begging him to fill me up.
“Such a nice ass.” He gives my backside a solid smack and I yelp in stunned surprise at the
sudden sting and resulting pop of pleasure. His fingers slide from my pussy to my asshole, then back
to my clit. The warm feeling of his fingers teasing me is abated with another hard smack on my ass.
Fuck.
I’ve never been spanked before but his is exhilarating. My whole body tingles and he returns his
rough fingers to my clit for a few flicks before pressing into my throbbing pussy. I moan as his finger
finds that magical spot inside and begins to press on it.
“I want you to come first. I need you nice and wet and ready for this cock.” He’s still talking and I
swear my eyes roll back in my head as he taps and rubs that spot. Every muscle in my body is knotting
up as he gives my ass another solid smack.
Surprised, I cry out, and he growls in approval. “I like the way you tighten up when I smack your
ass.” He leans down and kisses my butt cheek, taking out the sting but leaving the liquid heat still
flooding my lower half. “Do you like it?”
I nod, unable to do more than whimper as pleasure winds me up tighter than a tinker toy. My belly
aches and my legs shake as the promise of orgasm looms overhead. Suddenly, he pulls a finger out of
me and it slides toward my clit, grazing just slightly before working back and forth over it in an
intoxicating rhythm. With his other finger still working on that spot inside, I don’t stand a chance and
the world implodes.
I cry out as my whole body coils up tight and pleasure crashes over me like a tsunami.
“Good girl.” He doesn’t stop as the ripples shudder through my core, carrying tingling warmth out
toward my fingers and toes.
When he finally stops, I’m a trembling mess on my belly on the bed, bent at the waist with my feet
on the floor.
I want more. “Don’t stop,” I say, peeking over at him. I find him working his pants down as he
flashes me an evil grin.
“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you.” He unrolls a condom over the most massive cock I’ve ever
seen and I bite my lip in fear. No wonder he needed me wet and ready.
His evil grin grows as he catches my look. “I warned you it was big.”
I can’t wait.
Without warning, he smacks my ass and I yelp. “Up on your knees.” He jerks his chin toward the
middle of the bed and I crawl up as the sound of a belt buckle rattling catches my attention.
I gasp. If he’s going too…that might be too much.
But to my surprise, no blow lands. Instead, the leather settles neatly around my throat and pulls
tight. Not too tight, just tight enough to surprise me as he positions himself behind me.
I exhale, reminding my body to relax as he grabs a blanket and pulls it tight around my hips. I
glance back and see he’s got a fist wrapped in the blanket and the end of the belt in his other hand.
He’s got me all tied up without knots. The belt tightens on my throat and I whimper, loving the way the
cool leather feels on my skin.
He slides into me, feeling so big and hard I feel faint. The blanket pulls my hips back into him and
I feel the bounce through my whole body. My ass claps against him and my tits bounce as the belt
tightens slightly around my throat.
“Oh God…” I mumble. I’m at his mercy, but I’ve never felt so safe with another man.
He settles into a punishing rhythm and I feel the tingling in my lips as blood flow begins to slow. I
love the sensation. Love the way my tits bounce, the way my ass bounces while he rams into me from
behind.
And as everything in me bears down, I cry out. This is the kind of sex I’ve been missing. This is
what I’ve wanted, but never gotten. It’s the sexiest thing that anyone’s ever done and I’m afraid I might
be hooked as pleasure screams through me and my body tightens around him and ripples.
“I feel you milking my cock.” He growls the words and excitement tingles like electricity over my
skin.
“Don’t hold back,” I whimper, feeling him harden. I know women like it to last, but not me. He’s
too big to be holding such a fast, rough pace for too long.
“I’m not sure I can.” He grinds the words out cruelly and I enjoy the way he hits the top of me and
forces my whole body to stretch to accommodate him.
Sudden warmth floods me and I feel his cock swell before he shudders. “Fuck. Me. You’re
incredible.”
With that, he withdraws and pulls away. I flop forward, my body warm and humming with
pleasure as the belt slides slowly from my neck toward the blankets.
Fuck me, that was dirty.
I sigh.
I loved every second of it.
 EPILOGUE

T ank
6 Months Later
It’s hard to believe it’s been six months.
I glance over at Avery. She’s smiling as she talks with her work friend, Darcie. I love the way
she’s all lit up. She looks happy.
She laughs and I watch the graceful motion of her throat, her wide smile and the way she crosses
her legs at the knee as she lies back on the couch. I think about last night and how hard I’d fucked her.
And the fact she’s wearing nipple clamps right now, so when this motherfucker leaves, she’ll be hot
and ready, and I can have her all over again. She might be a timid, sweet little bookkeeper by day, but
she’s a fucking freak in the sheets.
My sheets.
And she’s faithful. I’ve never seen her notice another guy since that dinner with her. But other guys
sure as fuck notice her. They notice that sexy sway, her incredible ass, her tight perky tits and her near
refusal to wear bras. I fucking love it, but I do kind of want to break the face of every dude that stares
at her just a little too long.
But I won’t.
I trust her.
That’s all new for me. And Grunt has even noticed the way we are with each other.
“You got lucky, boss.” Grunt claps me on the back. “She’s good for you. Way better than Darla.”
“Fuck Darla.” I heard she moved on with another motorcycle group, a real douchebag group of
guys. No doubt she was spreading wide for every single one of them. But I don’t give a fuck. I have
my own piece of heaven right here in my living room on the phone.
Grunt chuckles. “No thanks. I don’t want a mad case of dick rot. So what are your plans now,
boss?”
“I’m gonna ask her to marry me.”
Grunt sighs. “It’s only been six months.”
I nod. I know that. I’ve agonized over it being too soon, but so far, she’s been great at rolling with
everything I’ve thrown at her without even blinking an eye. And I’m not fucking easy to put up with,
either.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I glance at him as he pounds the rest of his beer.
“I should get going.” He won’t look at me and I know something’s up.
 “Would I fuck her?” I ask casually.
“Hell no. You’re stuck on this one.”
I glance at him and see that light come on in his eyes. He knows he’s caught. But I’m not in the
mood to fuck with him. “Good luck,” I say instead.
“Thanks.” With that, he heads out. The door closes and Avery looks up. Her face lights up and I
hear her tell her friend she has to go.
A moment later, she’s bouncing in in her black yoga pants that she knows drive me wild and an off
the shoulder little shirt that shows off her belly and the outline of her nipples. She stands up on tiptoe
and kisses me.
I kiss her back, then take both her hands in mine. She stares at me with an expression that’s fifty-
fifty surprise and playfulness.
I get down on one knee and feel her pulse speed up in her hands. “I’m shit at things like this. But I
want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me happy and I feel like we fit together
perfectly.”
A smile crosses her lips and I press on like a madman before she can tell me to shut up. “Will you
marry me?”
She nods. “My answer is yes, but I need to tell you something before we make it official.”
My heart turns to stone in my chest. “What?” I ask, aching inside. This can’t be good.
There’s a tiny hint of fear in her eyes and I can’t hold back my worry as she steps into my arms
and winds herself around my shoulders.
“I went to the doctor this morning.”
“And?” I nod. She hasn’t been feeling well lately. “Is everything okay?”
She nods. “Better than okay.” Her voice breaks. “Tank, I’m pregnant.” Her voice lowers to a
whisper as joy fills my heart. “With twins. Boys.”
Twin boys.
“So you’ll marry me and have my babies?” I ask, unable to believe my luck.
“Yes. Oh, fuck yes.”
I glance at her and she presses her lips to mine.
And just like that, I’m happy. This is home. This is my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve her.
I’m pretty sure I don’t. But she’s happy, I’m happy and I’m not about to tell her that she could do a
helluva lot better.
No way.
She’s mine.
And I’m all hers.

The End
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 ALSO BY TILLY POPE

Violet
Dad got me a job at his best friend’s company.
I have to go or Dad will cut me off.
But the job is boring and I’d rather be somewhere else.
That is, until I meet my new boss.
Damn, Daddy’s friend is a stone cold hottie.
A snack I’m about to devour.
But, it’s wrong. I mean, he’s my BOSS!
Liam
When my buddy asks me to hire his daughter, I think I'm doing him a simple favor.
I didn't realize she’d be so sweet and beautiful.
I can’t stop looking at her.
Fantasizing.
Bent over my desk.
Her back side primed for a spanking.
No, I can’t have her.
It’s wrong. I’m her BOSS ffs.
But then again, what are friends for?

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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tilly Pope writes dirty, hot and over the top instalove stories about possessive alpha males who know what they want. Always short,
sometimes cheesy, always naughty, no cheating and a guaranteed happily ever after.
Tilly loves football, spanking and wine.
Find her at tillypope.com