My Hot & Dirty Biker Boyfriend - A Motorcycle Club Romance Series

Book 1 - Resisting the Biker By Cassie Alexandra All Rights Reserved IT WAS JUST after nine o’clock p.m. when Jessica Winters walked out of Twenty-Four Hour Fitness, dropped her gym bag into the trunk of her car, and drove to her two-bedroom apartment in Iowa City. She pulled into the underground garage, grabbed her things, and headed toward the elevator, relieved that her roommate, Kellie, was out of town. She’d have the place to herself for a couple of days, which meant that she wouldn’t have to listen to the sound of Kellie and her boyfriend, Jack, going at it in the other room all hours of the night. She had to admit, listening to Kellie when she was having those ‘mind-blowing orgasms’, as she so fondly called them, was hell. Especially for someone who’d decided not to have s*x until she met the ‘one’. ‘The one’ who seemed to be taking his damn sweet time in finding her. “You should get yourself a vibrator,” said Kellie after Jessica had confronted her about keeping the noise down the previous weekend. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so weird about it.” “If not wanting to listen to other people having s*x is being weird then I certainly don’t want to be whatever it is you consider normal.” “God, you take everything so f*****g seriously. I’m just giving you s**t. Although,” she’d smirked, “you have to admit, you’re way too uptight about s*x. You’re twenty years old, for God’s sake. You need to get your freak on, Jessica, like the rest of us.” “I’m not uptight and I don’t need to ‘get my freak on’. I’m just tired from not getting any sleep,” she’d shot back angrily. “I mean, come on – four in the morning? You’d be pissed, too, if you had classes at seven and were up all night, trying to block out the howling in the next room. If you could at least keep it down. That’s all I ask.” “Honey, you can’t keep good s*x down. If you had it, you’d know what I mean.” “Whatever. At least turn up the damn music.” “Fine.” The truth was that they fought about more than just the obnoxious grunting and moaning coming from Kellie’s room. They argued about groceries, cable and electric bills, or where things belonged in the apartment. It certainly wasn’t fun going home at night, and Jessica pretty much knew what she had to do – find herself a new roommate or… move back in with her mother, Frannie. At least she’d get more sleep and not have to put up with Kellie’s bullshit. Unfortunately, that meant she’d also have to move in with Slammer, her mom’s biker fiancé. Not only was he intimidating, but he was the president of the Gold Vipers, a motorcycle club in Jensen, which Jessica wanted absolutely no part of. Admittedly, she actually liked Slammer and he was not at all what she’d expected, with his easy-going manner and funny stories. Sure, every other word was ‘f**k’ and he smoked like a chimney, but he treated Frannie, his ‘Old Lady” as he liked to call her, like a queen and he was even considerate to Jessica. But, as far as she was concerned, he was still in a gang and his way of living wasn’t the kind she wanted for her mother. She’d even tried talking Frannie out of seeing Slammer several times, but apparently the two of them had already fallen “hopelessly in love”, so it was like talking to a wall. Even when Jessica mentioned the fact that bikers in clubs like his were always breaking the law and ending up in prison, she’d come back with – “Slammer says that the Gold Vipers aren’t like other MC clubs. They’re more like a band of brothers who look out for each other and their families. Everything they are involved with is totally legit.” Yeah, right. Frannie was so gullible, it was frustrating. Jessica could only cross her fingers and hope that Slammer would keep her out of anything illegal. If he did try to involve her mother in any way, and she got word of it, Slammer would find his ass in jail faster than he could light his next Camel. Her mother meant everything to her and there was no way she’d sit back quietly or turn the other cheek. Frannie was close to retirement and she didn’t want her mother spending any part of it in prison. Looking forward to a quiet night, Jessica pushed the thoughts of her future stepdad away, and took the elevator to the third floor. Humming to herself, she walked down the hallway to her apartment, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. As she was about to turn the kitchen light on, someone grabbed her from behind, his arm locking around her like a steel vice. She tried to scream but it was immediately cut off by a gloved hand clamping over her mouth. The smell of leather and gasoline made her gag. “Hello, darlin’,” the man growled into her. He began groping her breasts. “Oh, these are nice.” Sobbing, she tried struggling, but it only made him laugh. Desperate to get away, she tried biting his hand through the glove. “b***h,” he snarled, squeezing her mouth so hard, her jaw ached. “Fight me and you die. Understand?” Whimpering, Jessica ignored his threat and slammed her elbow into his stomach, remembering the self-defense class she’d taken before college. The instructor had said to fight for your life at any cost. Scream, kick, do whatever it took to get away, or the chances of surviving were slim to none. The man grunted, but instead of releasing her, he grabbed her by the throat and began to squeeze. “You think you have a chance against me, b***h? You keep fighting, and I’ll snap your neck. Don’t you dare f*****g test me!” “Please… can’t… breathe…” she begged hoarsely. He loosened his hold slightly. “You gonna behave?” Her mind was whirling as she tried to think of another way of escape. The kitchen knives were too far out of reach and he was so strong. She’d never make it. “Answer me, b***h!” he hissed, pulling her hair back cruelly in his fist. “Yes!” she cried. “Okay then,” he whispered, pushing her toward the bedroom. “Now, let’s go have us some fun.” AN HOUR LATER, Jessica heard him leave the apartment. Bloody and bruised, she staggered back to the kitchen, locking the door. Then, she grabbed her cell phone and called nine-one-one. “I’ve been attacked. Raped,” she sobbed into the phone, her entire body shaking. She slid down to the floor, glancing at the doorway in terror, worried he’d bust it down and kill her. “Please… help me. I’m afraid he’ll come back.” “We’re sending someone right away,” the woman promised, trying to calm her down. “You are sure that the assailant has left?” “Yes,” she replied, staring down at the bruises on her thighs where he’d dug his fingers into her flesh. Between that and the burning pain between her legs, she wanted to die. She wanted him to die. “Okay. The police should be there soon,” reminded the operator. “I’ll stay on the phone with you until they arrive. Did you get a good look at the assailant?” “He... he wore a mask. A black one.” “Did you recognize his voice?” “No. Nobody I know would do this!” “Okay. Try to calm down, Ms. Winters. Someone is coming.” As Jessica waited for help to arrive, she closed her eyes and began crying all over again. The woman on the phone tried soothing her, but all she could think about was the rapist’s gloating brown eyes. She’d never forget them or his dry, cracked lips. He’d made her stare up at him while he did the unspeakable. It seemed to get him off. “You see me?” he’d growled several times. Jessica had seen him clearly. He was the devil. He even wore a patch on his vest that proved it.