The gorgeous athlete and model,
Angel DeMacho, is
Marco D’Angelo is living a lie.
Tall, powerful, brooding, and intimidating, he’s the muscle for a nefarious motorcycle gang, but he has been working undercover for the D.E.A., chasing a shadowy drug lord.
For two long years Marco has been forced to remain a loner, his life in constant danger, but when Kat Baldwin joins the club, he suddenly finds himself in a quandary.
Rebellious, raven-haired and green-eyed, wearing leathers that cling to her voluptuous curves, she takes his breath away. Though his keen instinct tells him there’s more to Kat than meets the eye, and she’s trouble with a capital T, he can’t ignore the intense chemistry blazing between them.
Faster than his bike can race, Marco is under orders to spank her, but when the punishment is over, she shocks him. Chastised women drop their gaze, but not the emerald-eyed vixen. She stares up at him with unwavering scrutiny, and just minutes later she dares to challenge him.
He aches to fist her hair and crush her lips.
To consume her
To make her his.
Can he resist the ferocious desire?
An unexpected shiver rippled through her body. Had their roll in the sheets been a mistake? He had taken her breath away…literally…and she could feel herself wanting more. She wanted to crawl against him, soak in his scent, be engulfed in his powerful arms, and melt blissfully into a serene, safe, protected sleep.
“I can feel you staring at me?” he softly muttered. “What’s on your mind?”
She mentally shook herself. She couldn’t afford to daydream. Daydreaming could be dangerous.
“Let’s see,” she began, gathering her wits, “I met this guy, he spanked my ass for no good reason, then he was unbelievably rude to me, told me he wanted nothing to do with me, then out of nowhere he totally seduced me and I just had incredible sex with him. I’m not sure what to make of any of that, or him or me at the moment. Does that answer your question?”
He didn’t respond, but she could see the beginnings of a frown. She was tempted to add a sarcastic quip about him being a non-stop talker and not being able to get a word in edgewise, but thought better of it. After what felt like the longest pause in human history he finally spoke.
“Sounds to me like you’ve met your match.”
“Seriously? That’s the best you can do? That is such a cliché.”
“Hey, if the smart mouth fits,” he retorted, his chocolate eyes abruptly opening and blazing up at her.
“Maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe it’s you who’s met his match.”
For the first time since she’d met him, the edges of his lips curled into the suggestion of a grin.
“Kat, you don’t really believe that, do you?”
With unexpected speed he sat up, grabbed her wrists, and leaning over her, he pinned them above her head just as he’d done when he’d taken her, astonishingly, ardently amazingly taken her. Swallowing hard, trying to keep her composure and pretend her toes weren’t curling and her stomach wasn’t tumbling, she locked his eyes.
“Is that suppoed to prove something? Obviously you’re physically stronger than me, that’s a given. That doesn’t mean…”
“Think about it. You totally rejected me, and yet, drum roll please, here you are, in my place and in my bed!”
Her deep green eyes were twinkling up at him, and for a moment he felt uneasy. She did have a point, but it had been his decision to change the dynamic…hadn’t it? Yes, of course it had, so why was she was looking like the cat who’d eaten the proverbial canary.
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