Never Love an Outlaw

Megan: I wasn't supposed to end up in an outlaw biker's bed. I wasn't supposed to love it. I definitely wasn't supposed to crave his fiery kisses, beg for his touch, or ache to know the man behind the evil-looking ink and scarred smirk.

I was the good girl. He was the monster. Then everything changed. I became a prisoner. I prayed for Skin to save me. He did—and he kept me for himself.

Skin: I went psycho when I saw her in that dirty whorehouse. She's everything I never wanted, a spitfire with a body meant for claiming.

Then she told me her secret, and I almost needed a straitjacket. I saved her life instead. I gave her a second chance.

I know she's a marked woman, caught between my club and the bastards I killed. Damn if I won't make her wear my name, even if she's trouble on two long legs I can't stop picturing wrapped around me. I'll brand her, bed her, own her, no matter how much hell I'll pay.

Contains mature themes.

© 2016 Tantor Media (Hljóðbók): 9781515977599

Útgáfudagur

Hljóðbók: 28 juni 2016