Heart. It’s what keeps you from being reckless. It’s what keeps you breathing. Money, power and respect… they were my god given right, not the reason I joined the Satan’s Knights. I tied myself to my club and nothing else. Give me my bike, the open road and a different woman every night and I was happy. My life was great. Until the chaos exploded. One night. One reckless temptation and I finally found my reason for breathing. I never saw her coming. The girl that would turn my world upside down and give me my heart. Only it was too late. One mistake can take it all away. I’m about to lose my heart. The thing that keeps me breathing. The thing that keeps me from being reckless.
Drop out of nursing school? Check. Have no idea what you’re going to do with your life? Check. Disappoint your family? Double check. Meet a biker and have crazy sex against a wall? Check. Check. Check. Get knocked up by said biker? Check. I was always the good girl, the prodigal child, the girl who said and did all the right things. Things like this didn’t happen to me. Until him. Until he smiled. Until he tempted me to find out what made me happy. Too bad it’s him. We’ll never work, but, I can pretend can’t I? Just for a little while. Just until it’s over.
The Pink Pussycat
More Bianci bullshit was headed my way. “Maria thinks Lauren is an intern at a hospital, a requirement for her nursing degree. The is, she kind of quit the program,” Mia continued. I lifted an eyebrow. “Mama Leone” was going to blow a gasket. “So if she’s not playing Florence Nightingale, where is she?” I questioned. Silence. Fuck my life. I stalked toward Mia, watching as she raised an eyebrow and walked backwards until her back slammed against the door. “Ouch,” she muttered. I narrowed my eyes, bracing one hand flat against the door over her head and leaned close to her. “Where is she?” I repeated. “She’s working at a bar in town, near campus,” she said, stepping around me to walk toward her desk. She ripped a piece of paper off a pad and scribbling something on it. “Here’s the address. She’s not answering the phone so you need to go get her before Maria starts asking questions.” “You’re kidding right?” Does the leather and tattoos not scare anyone anymore these days? These people are walking all over me like I’m some kind of jerk off. “I don’t even know what she looks like,” I grunted, staring down at the scribbled address, wondering what kind of bar the Pink Pussycat was and what the fuck I did in life to deserve this shit. Mia looked at me for a moment before turning around and grabbing a picture frame off her dresser. She held up the framed photo of her and what I assumed was Lauren. I dropped my eyes to the picture of the two girls, my eyes zeroing in on Lauren. Big crystal blue eyes, framed by thick black-rimmed glasses, stared back at me. She had a killer smile, perfectly straight, white teeth, framed by full pink lips and a cute tongue since she was sticking it out the side of her mouth. Her black hair framed her face in waves, a stark contrast to her bright blue eyes. She was pretty, hot even, if you’re into the girl next door type. Or nurses. I wouldn’t mind being her patient. I lifted my eyes back to Mia’s and handed her back her photograph before turning around and pulling open the door. “Are you going to go get her?” Mia called over my shoulder. I ignored her and brushed past Maria who was scowling at me from the bathroom door. “Got lost on your way to the john?” She asked, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. “No, when you wouldn’t hold my dick for me I thought I’d test my luck with your daughter’s roommate,” I smiled, glancing over my shoulder at Mia. “Thanks, babe,” I winked. “What? No! I didn’t…” Mia stammered. These Bianci people were a pain in my ass but they sure were fun to fuck with. I turned around and shoved my finger in front of Maria’s nose. “I’ll be back. Don’t. Fucking. Move.” “Where are you going?” “To pick up your damn daughter, because someone upstairs…” I pointed my index finger to the ceiling, “…wants to keep fucking testing my patience with you people.” It was her turn to shove her accusing finger in my face. “You’re going to the hospital to pick her up? Just…don’t talk to anyone. I’m warning you, you better behave yourself and not embarrass her. Lauren has worked very hard to get where she is and the last thing she needs is some scoundrel like you, messing things up for her with your crude mouth and poor manners,” she said. Was this bitch serious? “I’ll try not to piss on the floors of the hospital and promise not to pick my nose in front of any hotshot doctors,” I sneered, shaking my head in disgust. She should only know how deep my manners go. I stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind me and glanced at the address Mia had given me. Fucking bullshit. I typed the address into the GPS of the cage I was driving because I was in the middle of Bumblefuck New York, full of winding roads and fucking deer. I was waiting for that to happen next because why not add killing Bambi to this wretched night. I whimpered as I drove, feeling sorry for myself and slammed my hand against the steering wheel. I just wanted my bike and the open road. And maybe a blowjob. That would be nice. Lauren’s pretty, pink lips, wrapped nice and tight around my dick and those blue eyes peeking up at me over the frames of her glasses. Shit. Where the fuck did that come from? Get your shit together, Riggs. “You’ve arrived at your destination,” the GPS alerted, and I’m not going to lie, she sounded hot too. I needed to get laid. Or I needed to go to bed. Something. Anything. The Pink Pussycat was packed, people stood in line waiting to get inside even at three a.m., apparently making it a happening joint for the people of Bumblefuck. I moved to the front of the line and a big brut of a guy stood there, staring down at me. “Line’s back there,” the beast said. “That’s nice, move aside,” I replied, stepping around him but he took mimicked my move and blocked me again. I glanced at the heavens. “Why?” I shouted into the dark sky. No one answered. Pussy. Shit, I was probably going to hell for that one. I looked back at the beast of a bouncer who raised an eyebrow at me, and was tempted to tell him he looked like Michael Clarke Duncan, but I needed to focus. I took a deep breath and opened my cut for him to see the gun I had tucked into my waistband. “Listen, bud, I’ve had the night from hell and I’m ten seconds away from losing it, so move the fuck out of my way and let me do what the fuck I came here to do,” I growled, reaching for the gun. He crossed his arms, glanced at my gun, and shook his head completely unfazed. “Pretty please, with sugar on top?” I tried. Nothing. “Fuck! The name “Tony Soprano” mean anything to you? Shit, I mean, fuck, what’s his name…Pastore.” the burley bouncer remained unmoved. That’s it. I can’t take anymore. “Bro, get the fuck out of my way, seriously, I have to get one of the girls that works here, I’m her ride.” “Who?” “Lauren Bianci,” I huffed. That fucking last name was nothing but trouble. “Shit, man, why didn’t you say so?” He pounded me on the back and smiled. “Lauren’s my girl, love that chick, always makes me smile,” he said, with an actual smile. “Go on in. She’s working the bar tonight.” I think I muttered a thank you, I’m not sure, but I brushed past him and stepped foot into the loud bar that was packed beyond capacity. It took me five minutes, pushing my way through the crowd toward the bar that was surrounded mostly by men that were hooting and hollering. What was the big fuss? I squeezed my way between two jocks screaming for their turn to be next and caught a glimpse of what had every guy in this joint begging to be next. The girl next door was on her knees, crawling the length of the bar, from one lucky bastard to another. She poured the liquor straight from the bottle into some lucky bastard’s mouth. “Marry me!” He shouted, and she threw her head back and laughed. “Oh baby, I’m not the marrying kind,” she said, blowing him a kiss before she rose to her feet and gave me a full view of her outfit. I started with the shoes that stomped across the bar, fucking sexy as hell. I’d make her keep them on when she wrapped her legs around me and wouldn’t even mind those five-inch heels digging into my back. She was a tiny thing, maybe five foot two, if that, but those heels made her killer legs seem so long. Or maybe it was the short plaid skirt that gave every man at the bar a peep show. Her waist was tiny and her stomach flat, but her rack? Man, what I wouldn’t do to shove my face in her tits. Her shirt knotted under her breasts and was open for all to see the black lace bra she was wearing. I squinted, hoping to catch a little peak of her nips but she was moving all over the place, dancing up a storm as she flirted and poured liquor into all the open mouths, waiting for a taste. Lauren Bianci, the girl next door, rocked the naughty, school girl bit like no one’s business. “What’s the matter handsome? Why so serious?” She asked. Her big blue eyes, framed by those damn glasses, staring straight into mine. Every fucking thing went south, whatever common sense I had left, all my blood, it all went straight to my dick. She smiled wide, bending down and pulled my hat from my head before she ran her fingers through my messy hair and yanked my head back. “Open up,” she demanded against my ear. I looked into those eyes and was fucking lost. She could’ve demanded I run around the bar naked, barking like a dog and I would’ve done it. So I opened my mouth and let her poor the cinnamon flavored whiskey down my throat. My dick was rock-fucking-hard. Down boy! She pulled the bottle away and swiped her thumb across my lips. “Good boy,” she cheered, as she was about to turn her attention to the man beside me but I grabbed her wrist. Something changed in her eyes and she glanced around the bar, my guess in search of a bouncer. She probably thought I was just another schmuck that wanted to take her into a bathroom stall. I kind of did. I leaned closer, hypnotized by her perfume and sniffed her. “Show’s over Lauren. Grab your things it’s time to go,” I said against her ear. She tried to pull her wrist from my hand but my grip tightened and I turned my head a fraction to stare into those blue orbs again. Shit, they were pretty. “How do you know my name?”
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About the Author
Janine Infante Bosco lives in New York City, she has always loved reading and writing. When she was thirteen, she began to write her own stories and her passion for writing took off as the years went on. At eighteen, she even wrote a full screenplay with dreams of one day becoming a member of the Screen Actors Guild. Janine writes emotionally charged novels with an emphasis on family bonds, strong willed female characters, and alpha male men who will do anything for the women they love. She loves to interact with fans and fellow avid romance readers like herself. She is proud of her success as an author and the friendships she’s made in the book community but her greatest accomplishment to date would be her two sons Joseph and Paul.