A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance
Savage Raptors MC, Book 5
Motorcycle Club Romance
Date Published: May 24, 2024
Isy -- Being the daughter of a Dixie Reaper isn’t as wonderful as it
sounds. Not when your dad expects you to be this perfect little princess who
never causes trouble, never dates, and just… sits on a shelf
collecting dust. It sucks. When I get the chance, I run. I didn’t
exactly have a destination in mind, but ending up in Bryson Corners turned
out to be a good thing. The first Savage Raptor I saw, I claimed. I should
feel bad for Rebel, but… he’s just so sexy, and now he’s
all mine!
Rebel -- You know the saying be careful what you wish for? I should have
listened. I wanted a family and fate literally threw Isy into my arms.
I’d thought I was saving her. It never occurred to me she’d
announce she was my girlfriend. Although, I have to admit there’s
chemistry between us. It’s hard to keep my hands off her. I’d
thought the kidnap attempt was a one-time thing, but I was wrong. Isy has a
stalker, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe. She’s mine,
and I’ll make damn sure everyone knows it!
WARNING: Rebel is an insta-love story intended for adult readers. It
contains violence, stalking, bad language, and adult situations.
EXCERPT
Rebel
The scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke clung to the air, setting the
perfect tone for a typical night at the Savage Raptors MC clubhouse. I sat
perched on a worn-out barstool, nursing my drink and taking in the rowdy
chaos around me. The clubhouse was alive with the sounds of laughter,
cursing, and the clinking of glass as my brothers let off some steam.
I could have gone to a bar in town, but the beer here was free. Sort of.
The club treasurer took a percentage of the club take for any jobs and
funneled it over to an account used for stocking the bar. Even though we
hadn’t had a lot of runs lately, we’d picked up two local
businesses. Bought them cheap when they were about to close up, so now we
had a gas station and a honky-tonk. Both brought in good revenue.
I wasn’t much for country music, so I avoided the honky-tonk unless I
had no other options. It was always lively. Lots of pretty girls there too.
Unfortunately for me, I apparently looked more like the good-time guy than
boyfriend material, because they only ever wanted one night. There were
times that was perfectly fine. Most of the time I was looking for something
else. Not that I’d admitted as much to anyone.
“Fuck yeah, man!” Stinger shouted from across the room, landing
a winning shot on the pool table. Ever since Atilla decided to follow the
Dixie Reapers’ example and ban club whores from the compound, our
clubhouse had changed quite a bit. Of course, we were a smaller club, so
we’d never been as rowdy anyway.
Now, instead of women, we had a pool table, dartboard, and a poker table. I
had to admit, I much preferred it this way. The women who came here were
nothing but trouble. Although, Truth had kept them in line before.
He’d disliked most females, and certainly hadn’t respected them,
until he met his wife. He’d changed a lot since Madison came into his
life. They’d even adopted a son, which mellowed Truth even more.
When he’d wanted to claim Madison, I’d thought for sure Atilla
would tell him no. The way he’d always treated women, he was the last
one I’d expected to settle down. Now my brothers were all falling, one
after another. We’d gone from all being bachelors to four of us having
families.
I couldn’t help but crack a smile at my brothers’ antics as I
watched them. We were a family -- a ragtag group of misfits bound together
by brotherhood and loyalty. But beneath the camaraderie and wild nights,
something gnawed at me, leaving me restless and itching for more. It
wasn’t precisely a new feeling, but one that was steadily growing with
each passing month. It started a few years ago, and clearly wasn’t
going away.
“Nice shot, Stinger!” I called out, raising my own bottle in a
toast before taking another swig. My gaze drifted around the room. Even
though I sat by myself, I wasn’t alone. Not here.
General and Spade were locked in an intense arm-wrestling match, veins
bulging and sweat pouring down their faces as they strained against each
other. A few brothers had gathered around them, placing bets on who would
emerge victorious.
“Come on, Spade, you got this!” someone yelled, egging him on
with a slap to his back.
“Fuck that, General’s gonna wipe the floor with his ass!”
another voice countered, earning a snarl from Spade. Yeah, probably not the
brightest idea to piss off the club’s VP. Whoever had made the comment
was most likely going to get the shit jobs for a while. Or forced to scrub
toilets both here and at our businesses.
I’d been living this life for years -- the booze, the bikes, the
women -- but it all felt so hollow now. Like I was missing the one thing
that would make it all worthwhile. I still hooked up with women sometimes,
but not recently. In fact, I hadn’t been with anyone in over three
months. I always got tested afterward, just to be safe. Being with random
women wasn’t the smartest thing to do. Even a condom wasn’t
foolproof.
The feeling I’d had wasn’t one I’d been able to label
until recently. Helping out Cowboy’s son, Jackson, in the past few
weeks had certainly made an impact on me. He’d been willing to do
anything for his wife and kid, and it had taken me a few days to realize I
was jealous as hell. I’d had no reason to be, until I came to the
conclusion the restless feeling inside me was because I wanted a family of
my own. Not just a brotherhood, but a wife and kids.
“Hey, Rebel!” Stinger called out, snapping me from my thoughts.
“You want in on the next game?”
“Maybe later,” I replied, tossing him a grin before taking
another swig of my beer. My mind refused to let go of the thought there
should be more to life than this -- something deeper, more meaningful. And I
was determined to find it, whatever the cost. Not that the town of Bryson
Corners was crawling with women I’d want to claim for more than a
night. If it was, they’d all given me a wide berth. Maybe I
wasn’t the kind of man they thought would want a lasting relationship.
I needed someone who could handle living with the club, accept this way of
life. Some might think it sounded amazing, but the reality would most likely
send them running at some point.
My gaze drifted across the clubhouse, finally landing on Lynx and Atilla,
who were seated nearby, beers in hand, deep in conversation.
“Man, I never thought I’d see the day when Grizzly would let
his daughter be part of our world,” Atilla chuckled, taking a swig
from his bottle. As the President of our club, he’d never backed down
from a challenge, and always kept us in line. “It’s too bad
he’s not here to see how much progress Meredith has made. She’s
almost like a different woman these days. May Grizzly’s soul rest in
peace!”
“I honestly thought he’d lose his shit and demand I send her
home,” Lynx said, running a hand through his reddish hair as he
smiled. “But Meredith’s been a true blessing in my life.
Wouldn’t trade her for anything. We have a good life here, and I hope
he’s watching over her and sees that she’s right where she
belongs.”
“Damn straight,” Atilla replied, raising his bottle in a toast.
“To love and brotherhood.”
The genuine smiles spread across their faces struck a chord within me.
There was a depth to their happiness I had yet to find in my own
experiences. It gnawed at me, a hunger no amount of drink or late-night
escapades could satisfy. Family. What those two had with their women was
more than I’d ever thought to have for myself. Except now, I wanted it
more than anything. I was only in my thirties, and I knew a lot of brothers
my age who weren’t ready to settle down. Some would say I still had my
entire life ahead of me, but why spend all those years alone? Easy pussy
wasn’t as satisfying as it had been a decade ago.
“Rebel, you all right?” Lynx called out, noticing my stare. I
hadn’t realized how long I’d been watching them.
“Uh, yeah. Just thinking,” I said, offering a half-hearted
grin. “Guess I zoned out for a minute.”
“Careful, brother. Don’t wanna strain that little brain of
yours,” Atilla teased, his laughter echoing through the room as Lynx
joined in.
“Fuck off, old man!” I shot back. Thankfully, he knew I was
joking, otherwise the Pres would have put me on my ass.
I couldn’t help but envy their camaraderie. I’d noticed those
who had settled down with a woman and kids seemed closer than ever before.
It made me feel left out.
“Seriously, though,” Lynx continued, his expression sobering,
“if you ever need someone to talk to, we’re here for you. Looked
like you had something heavy weighing on your mind.”
“Appreciate it,” I replied, giving them a nod. But as their
laughter resumed and they dove back into their conversation, my thoughts
continued to churn. If I was going to find a woman around here, I would have
by now. I’d lived in Bryson Corners most of my life. But unless I ran
into her on a run to another city or state, it wasn’t likely I’d
have the chance to search for my one and only. Not anytime soon.
My eyes flicked back to Lynx and Atilla, the sight of their contentment
only deepening my desire for something more. And as the noise and chaos of
the clubhouse washed over me, I swore to myself that I wouldn’t settle
for anything less. I needed to find that missing piece, the connection that
would make my life complete.
Lynx’s phone went off, and he stood to go outside to answer.
He’d only been gone a few minutes before he returned, his face pale
and his hands clenched into fists. I wondered what the call had been about,
but I wasn’t going to pry. He sat down and leaned closer to Atilla.
Whatever he’d said made Atilla check his phone as well. The Pres let
out a curse and disappeared down the hall to his office.
As curious as I was, I knew if it was anything club related, I’d find
out eventually. I only hoped it wasn’t anything too bad. With the way
Lynx looked, I knew it wasn’t good news, though.
As the night wore on, I slouched on my barstool, arms braced on the bar top
in front of me. I twisted my empty beer bottle, trying not to feel sorry for
myself. No one had approached me so far. Probably thought I was drunk off my
ass, and honestly, I was getting close. How many beers had I had already?
I’d lost count.
“Another round?” Benjamin asked. The Prospect held out a bottle
toward me, and I nodded. He popped the top and handed it over.
“Rebel, you ever think about settling down?” The question came
from Ace, our newest member, who sat two barstools down from me. His eyes
sparkled with mischief, and I wondered if he was about to try setting me up
with a stripper or some stranger he’d just met. Wouldn’t be the
first time. He’d done it to every single man here at one point or
another. Last time he’d tried it with me, she’d been a no-show.
I counted myself lucky.
Poor Knuckles had ended up with a stripper who’d been high as a kite.
He’d caught her shooting up during their date and walked out. Good
thing too since she’d OD’d later that night. If Knuckles had
been with her at the time, the police would have given us hell. Last thing
we wanted was a spotlight on us.
“Me? Nah, not my style, man,” I replied dismissively, unwilling
to share my true thoughts with anyone just yet. I knew my brothers would
give me shit if I admitted I wanted a wife and kids more than
anything.
“Fair enough.” He chuckled. “You’re older than me
but still young. Plenty of time for that I guess.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Since you brought it up, do
you have your eye on someone? Or were you just trying to unload some
unwanted attention?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No, to both, but I have to admit,
Atilla, Lynx, Maui, and Truth all look pretty content these days. Makes me
wonder if they’ve figured out the secret to happiness.”
“Hey, Rebel,” a sultry voice whispered in my ear, snapping me
out of my reverie. I glanced over to see Raven, a dark-haired beauty who
frequented the club, sliding her hand up my thigh. When the hell had she
gotten here? “Wanna have some fun?”
She wasn’t a club whore, and never had been. Which was why Atilla
allowed her to come to the clubhouse sometimes. However, she had a tendency
to hang out with a few of my brothers and seemed to worm her way into this
place on occasion. Like now. I didn’t know why she kept targeting me,
but she wasn’t my type. Too high maintenance.
I’d be willing to bet it took her over an hour to get ready every
day. I’d seen her around town often enough to know she fixed her hair
and makeup like this all the time. Had to admit I wondered what she’d
look like fresh out of the shower, but I doubted she’d ever let
someone see her like that.
“Thanks, Raven, but not tonight,” I muttered, brushing her hand
away. Her pout did little to entice me. The move was too practiced.
“Suit yourself,” she huffed, stalking off to find another
willing participant for her games. Of course, there was always the chance
she was angling for a property patch. If that was the case, she’d be
better off trying to con Stinger into taking her.
“Damn, Rebel. You turning down Raven?” Ace whistled, his
eyebrows raised in surprise. “You must be going soft. I know the two
of you have hung out a few times. Not to your taste anymore?”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, taking a swig of my beer,
welcoming the bitter taste. I’d played pool with her twice, and on a
night I’d been too drunk to stand up straight, I’d fucked her in
the bathroom. No one wanted to let me forget it either.
I’d always been fiercely loyal to my brothers, but as the night wore
on, the truth became clear: I needed something more -- someone who saw
beyond the leather and tattoos, who could fill the void inside me. And until
I found her, I felt like I’d never truly be whole.
About the Author
Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.
When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
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