Wrathful Souls (Sons of Templar MC – New Mexico #3) Read Online Anne Malcom

Categories Genre: Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC Tags Authors: Series: Sons of Templar MC - New Mexico Series by Anne Malcom
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Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
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“I was under the impression that you are … involved with the club,” he replied, voice stern.

I shrugged. “My best friend’s baby daddy and stepfather are patched members, and they throw really great parties.”

Apparently, that did not make him happy, his mouth flattening into a thin line.

“But I’m not going to get in the middle of this particular feud.” I stepped forward. “Really, I’m just after a good steak and company that knows their way around a wine list … not a Harley,” I purred, looking up at him.

It was a total lie. I’d been out with plenty of college boys who’d tried to impress me with their knowledge of wines by ordering $400 bottles. I was happy to drink the wine, but I’d come to understand that those were not the kind of men who made me hot.

The dials turned in his head—I practically watched it happen—and he’d stiffened when I’d gotten close to him.

This fucker was wound like a bowstring. But I did well with tightly wound men. They wanted me because I was chaos, sexuality… I promised to feed the desires they buried.

“Dinner,” he agreed.

I didn’t let the surprise show on my face. Though I was confident, I’d had a moment of doubt when his hatred for the club showed. If he truly hated them that much, then his principles would tell him to stay away from anyone connected.

But men’s principles were fickle when a woman was involved.

“Dinner,” I agreed with what I hoped was a coy look.

“I’ll pick you up. Seven.” His words were clipped. Cold. They somehow prickled my spine.

“You know where I live?” I asked, coquettishly.

“Of course, I do.”

Again with the shiver. I ignored it. I went up on my tiptoes to lay my lips against his cheek. “See you then, sheriff,” I winked before sauntering away.

Someone was pounding on my door.

And it was much too early.

Waking me up was a crime in and of itself. I’d slept poorly. As I often did. And when I dreamed, it was of the crime scene photos, of blood, violence.

So when I shoved my silk robe on top of the camisole and panties I wore to sleep, I was pissed. Especially because the pounding did not stop.

Upon reflection, it wasn’t a good idea to open the door to someone pounding while wearing nothing but silk and panties, but I was still half asleep and fully angry. In that state, I was deluded enough to think I could handle anyone.

“Tell me you’re fuckin’ kidding me,” a feral voice growled at me the second I opened the door.

Yes, growled.

I squinted at Colby, trying to get my bearings.

I was not able to get my bearings because Colby pushed through my door. In order to do that, he had to push me. Which he did. Forcefully.

It didn’t hurt, but the way he manhandled me shocked me.

Shocked me enough so I let him do it until the door slammed behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I demanded, trying to fight against him.

That was useless. He was stronger than me. And he was in some kind of rage. That much was clear. Exactly why, I couldn’t pinpoint.

I slammed against the wall before I knew what was happening, Colby’s palm on my chest, keeping me there. His fingertips almost brushed my nipples, which were already hard.

He was not turned on, though. Not in the slightest. Well, at least I couldn’t see any desire in his fury-clouded gaze.

“I still taste your pussy on my tongue, and you go out on a fuckin’ date with the man who is trying to bring down my club,” he hissed.

Oh, there it was.

That made a little more sense.

Yet how he knew didn’t make sense since the dinner only happened last night. And I’d been sure to go somewhere outside of Garnett because the chances of being seen by someone in the club or connected to the club were far too high otherwise.

“Who I have dinner with isn’t any of your business.” I was thankful that my voice didn’t shake.

“Again, it was my mouth on your cunt two days ago, so yes, it is my goddamn business,” he snapped.

“Your mouth could’ve been on my cunt five minutes before I went to dinner, and that still wouldn’t be reason enough to come bursting into my apartment and physically assaulting me.”

Flames practically flickered in his irises, his hand not moving. “If I put my hand down there right now, your pussy would be soaked,” he said quietly. “We both know this isn’t assault. And we both know you are my business. If you’re gonna discount what we are, then I’m gonna focus on somethin’ else. The sheriff is bad news. The fuck is ignoring the women being murdered in order to bring us down. He is ignoring your best fuckin’ friend almost dyin’ in order to bring down her family.”


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