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“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Can’t promise I’ll answer, but I will if I can.”

“The Longnecks—they’re the MC my stepdad hung around with—they kept a lot of club whores around. Do the Silver Bastards do that, too?”

“Yup,” she replied. “It’s a free country and the brothers bring guests here all the time. Some of them stick around, some of them don’t. Some find they aren’t as welcome as they thought.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Boonie’s dick is the only one that matters to me,” she replied, her voice matter-of-fact. “As for the women, I care less about who they’re sleeping with than how they act the rest of the time. Like I said, fuck with the sisters and you won’t last. Bridget won’t be back if she keeps this shit up.”

“Old ladies didn’t get to make those decisions in the Longnecks.”

Darcy smiled sweetly. “We don’t get to make those decisions in the Silver Bastards, either. Yet the right decisions still magically happen. Nobody knows how, really. Guess it’s just all our good karma coming back to us.”

My mouth dropped. Darcy winked.

“You think those men don’t need us?” she asked. “Boonie likes sleeping next to me. Gets cold and lonely when all the old ladies take a girls’ weekend in Seattle. Would be even colder and lonelier if we didn’t come back, and one time we forgot to for nearly a week. Fortunately things worked out and we found our way home again. Now things tend to work out faster.”

My eyes went wide.

“You serious?”

“Do I look like a woman who will eat shit?”

Point taken.

“Let’s get this trash out. I’m sure Puck will be looking for you soon, and I want to make sure all the girls meet you first. That boy’s crazy about you—it’s cute. Like a pit bull crushing on a kitten.”

Laughing, I grabbed my side of the can and we hauled it around to the front. One of the prospects came running, pulling out the bag and tying it off. Then he tossed it into the back of an old pickup at the end of the parking lot. We started back.

“So how’s school going?” Darcy asked. “Morgan’s pregnant, and she said she wants to take some time off when the baby comes. I could sure use your help at the shop.”



“I won’t have my license for another six months,” I admitted. “I can’t go full-time and still work until three every morning.”


Darcy nodded, looking thoughtful. Then we were at the gate again. I passed inside to find Puck and Painter filling paper plates at the food table.

“Go play with your boy,” Darcy told me. “Enjoy your night off together.”

Nodding eagerly I walked toward him, noting that the party was starting to pick up outside. Several girls were dancing and one had pulled off her shirt. Puck saw me and grinned, handing over a cup of beer.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Only way the poor bastard gets laid,” Painter pointed out. “You should throw him a pity fuck later. Otherwise he’ll whine like a little bitch all night. Gets old.”

“Fuck off,” Puck told him, pulling me in for a kiss. He tasted good, like whiskey. I never did figure out what happened to the beer I was holding, because five seconds later my legs were around his waist and he was walking across the grass toward the back of the lot. His hard cock pressed between my legs and my fingers dug into his hair desperately.

I heard a few whoops and catcalls, and for a second I flashed on a memory of a party years ago. One where another biker had hauled me off into the darkness. Hauled me off and hurt me.

Then we reached the back and Puck set me on a wooden table.

“Fuck, I’m crazy about you,” he muttered, and the memory faded. He stepped into me, leaving no doubt just how much he meant his words. “I know you were nervous about tonight, but you’re doing great. Tell me to stop. Otherwise I’m fucking you right here, Becca. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Music still filled the air, but back here darkness cradled us. It felt strangely private, despite the crowd, and a screen of low bushes blocked us off for the most part. I felt like I should protest . . . I just couldn’t remember why. Puck tugged down my tank and scooped my breast up out of my bra. Then his mouth covered it and lust took over. I fell back across the table as he followed me down, hands roaming.

That’s when I realized I’d made a very serious tactical error.

“Jesus Christ, these jeans are tight,” he grunted when he came up for air. I felt his fingers at my waist, trying to slip inside and failing. “Like a goddamned chastity belt.”

I bit back a giggle, then pushed at his chest.

“Let me up and I’ll fix it.” He growled but pulled back to give me space. I scooted down and hopped off the table, reaching for my fly. Unfortunately, that made me think of his fly and I got distracted. Seconds later I had his cock out, jacking it hard with my hand as he groaned.

The sound reminded me of our first night together—it’d been good at first. Real good.

Dropping to my knees, I decided I’d make it good again.

“Becca . . .”

I laughed as I drew him in deep, letting the sound’s vibrations surround him. I tasted a hint of salty pre-come as my fingers found his balls. Puck swayed, then his hand caught my head and he started guiding me.

“I could watch you like this for hours,” he said. “Kneeling in front of me. Lips all wet and shiny from sucking my cock. Just needs one more thing.”


Tags: Joanna Wylde Silver Valley Romance