Free Money Shot: Selected Sinners MC Romance by Scott Hildreth

bikes, people, politics…” I paused and shrugged my shoulders before I continued. “Shit, you name it, and we’ve discussed it. God damned woman is drop dead gorgeous, but that ain’t what I like about her. I like it that she’s so down to earth. No fucking drama. No bullshit. No whining, bitching, or acting like a little girl.”
    “Believe me, that’ll all change,” he said.
    I turned to face him and nodded my head. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
    “Listen, I’ll never shack up with a woman. Every motherfucker in this club knows that. They’re good for one thing and one thing only, and that’s shovin’ ‘em full of dick. That’s it. Beyond that, I don’t have much use for ‘em. But my opinion on women shouldn’t be your opinion on women. There’s sure plenty of men on this earth who are happily married, in solid relationships, or shovin’ the single neighbor gal next door full of cock, and doing it successfully. Does it mean this girl’s for you? Only you can answer that question, Vince. Only you,” he said.
    “I think I’ll probably keep doing what I’m doing and see what happens,” I said.
    “Sounds like a good move,” he said.
    “Devil looks after his own,” I said as I clenched my fist and held it at arm’s length.
    He pounded his fist against mine and grinned. “He damned sure does.”
    As I walked out of his office and into the shop, I didn’t feel any better about the situation I was in. Axton was right, the only one who knew what was best for me was me, and no one else.
    What it came down to was whether or not I was ready to take the risk of being hurt again.
    And I didn’t know much, but I knew the answer to that question.
    I wasn’t.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    SIENNA
    October 5 th , 2014
    I stared blankly at the monitor. The book was a disaster, the wine was aplenty, and the night was yet another spent at home alone. I wondered if I died in my sleep some night or fell into a wine induced coma and was unplugged from life support by some nurse who hated cool bitches just who would write and read my eulogy. I considered what it might say, based on them somehow finding someone who knew me well enough to write something.
    She drove a cool car and her hair was awesome.
    She had a nice butt when she wore those jeans from The Limited.
    Her nail beds were nice, but she rarely chose a good color of polish.
    Her eyebrows needed work.
    Thinking about it, I came close to crying. I had no one, was falling for a man that would probably never fall for me, yet I couldn’t fathom ever wanting any other man. My life had become a disaster. I was twenty-six, single, and had spent a lifetime in and out of relationships with losers. My father was probably turning over in his grave at the thought of his precious daughter withering away as an unmarried woman now pushing thirty years old.
    My father, not unlike me, was constantly reading something. Everything from cookbooks to old folklore could be found beside his bed on any given day. He was a sponge willing to soak up anything he could gather from reading. Me? I became a dreamer while he was away in prison, and began reading romance novels as fast as I could flip the pages. As soon as I got a Kindle and learned of the one-click option, my savings account began to dwindle, and my TBR list grew into the thousands.
    Romance novels were my weakness, and living the life depicted in them had become my dream.
    Before my father went to prison, he told me persistence is rewarded in a manner indifference will never know. I applied it all through high school, and my grades were a reflection of his wise words and my desire to make him proud of his little girl.
    I considered the advice of my father, and decided unless I applied it to my life, I would simply fall back into a proven pattern of slipping further and further away from what it was I deserved.
    I deserved to be loved as much as I was able to love.
    My eyes eventually focused on the monitor,