Page 51 of Misrule
What a big, bad name. But was he a big, bad biker?
She’d sent a message to Outlaw through Knox: either he met with her or she wasn’t interested no matter the amount of money involved. Simply put, she smelled a rat. It was just too coincidental that Kendall Miller had sought her out, had a husband affiliated with the Death Dwellers, and now the president of that same club needed Emily for a job.
She hadn’t been able to make it to the library to Google the club president, so she really didn’t know how he looked. She’d already eaten up her usage on her phone plan, too. And she couldn’t ask any of her coworkers for help since none of the bitches there liked her, so she refused to associate with any of them. They were terribly jealous of her blonde beauty.
At one time, she would’ve laughed in their faces. Now, she worked alongside the low-class. People who needed the shitty job to survive.
People like…herself.
That reality hit her once again as she sat in a burger joint waiting for…
A tall, muscular man, wearing a leather vest, jeans, and motorcycle boots, strolled toward her…
Him…? Outlaw?
Every woman, everyman, turned his way. He stopped at her table, widened his green eyes, and stared. Thick black lashes ringed his eyes in a beautiful display of masculine perfection and gave them a burning intensity. His temples had gray in them, but his black hair and tanned skin enhanced his stunning appearance.
“Fuck me,” he breathed. “You look just fuckin’ like her.”
She found her voice. “Like who?”
“My wife,” he responded, much to Emily’s disappointment. Shetriedto stay away from married men. She didn’t always succeed, since the male species found her so irresistible, but she gave herself credit for her valiant efforts.
He slid in the booth across from her. Fluttering her lashes at the biker enthralled him with so little effort, she almost laughed. He continued to stare, seeming speechless.
She offered him a saucy wink, wondering how close he was to his wife. “Are you happily married?” she asked.
He held up his big, left hand and wiggled his ring finger, indicating his simple gold band. “This repre-fuckin-sent the most important fuckin’ thing in my life.”
Licking her lips, she nodded, not believing him in the least and liking the way his gaze followed her mouth. Met her eyes. Looked at her mouth again, then glanced at her breasts.
She decided to follow his lead. With one look from his gorgeous eyes, one command from his sexy lips, he could get her to do anything he wanted.
Finally, he glanced away and stared into the distance.
“Big Joe, Big Joe, Big Joe,” he chanted on an annoyed mumble. “What the fuck you did?”
“Excuse me?”
Outlaw looked at her again. “You look just like her.”
Back to this. “Your wife?” She stopped short of rolling her eyes. Men always needed a reason to justify their cheating.
He nodded. “You just shocked the fuck outta me. Made me wonder about some shit.” He shrugged. “I can now fuckin’ under-fuckin-stand why psycho cunt go so fuckin’ crazy over my girl.”
Maybe…maybe, he was insane. He wasn’t making sense.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, then met her gaze again. “I ain’t got much time, babe, and I just fuckin’ used half the motherfucker oglin’ you,” he stated in a voice laced with just the right amount of roughness. “I’m off the grid right now and motherfuckers gonna be lookin’ for me, so lemme get straight to the fuckin’ point.”
She smiled, breathless and overheated, unable to contain her anticipation of feeling him inside of her.
“We got a common fuckin’ enemy,” he said flatly.
She frowned, confused.
“Kendall,” he clarified.
She straightened. “Kendall Mill…Donovan?”
