Solo

By Carol Lynne

In a club of mean bikers, being gay can get you killed, but love can save any man.

Sam Solo' Braun lives by one truth, the Grave Diggers Motorcycle Club, above all. The creed has served him well, giving him the only real family he's ever known. He would die for his brothers and them for him, but they don't know he prefers men over women. Coming out to a group of men who fear no one isn't high on Solo's priority list, especially because he's never indulged in more than one-night stands.

Everything changes after one night with Eric James. For the first time, Solo can't stop thinking about a single night he'd spent with a man. When fate intervenes, Solo comes face-to-face with his blue-eyed obsession, only to find out Eric is a cop. Solo hates cops, and so do his brothers in the club. However, Solo decides to gamble everything and spend more time with Eric under the guise of getting information.

Falling in love with a cop is a very dangerous proposition for a man in Solo's position, so why can't he walk away?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Sep 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781784307516

Carol Lynne

An avid reader for years, one day Carol Lynne decided to write her own brand of erotic romance. While writing her first novel, Branded by Gold, Carol fell in love with the M/M genre. Carol juggles between being a full-time mother and a full-time writer. With well over one hundred releases, one thing is certain, Carol loves to keep busy writing sexy cowboys, shifters, bodyguards, vampires and everything in between. Although series books are her passion, Carol enjoys penning the occasional stand-alone title. As founder and President of GRL Retreat, Inc., Carol helps organize the annual GayRomLit Retreat. Now in its sixth year, GayRomLit is an annual retreat that brings together the people who create and celebrate LGBT romance for a one-of-a-kind, must-attend gathering of dynamic, informal, and diverse fun.

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Solo

ISBN # 978-1-78430-751-6

©Copyright Carol Lynne 2015

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright August 2015

Edited by Sue Meadows

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2015 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

Grave Diggers MC

SOLO

Carol Lynne

Book one in the Grave Diggers MC series

In a club of mean bikers, being gay can get you killed, but love can save any man.

Sam ‘Solo’ Braun lives by one truth, the Grave Diggers Motorcycle Club, above all. The creed has served him well, giving him the only real family he’s ever known. He would die for his brothers and them for him, but they don’t know he prefers men over women. Coming out to a group of men who fear no one isn’t high on Solo’s priority list, especially because he’s never indulged in more than one-night stands.

Everything changes after one night with Eric James. For the first time, Solo can’t stop thinking about a single night he’d spent with a man. When fate intervenes, Solo comes face-to-face with his blue-eyed obsession, only to find out Eric is a cop. Solo hates cops, and so do his brothers in the club. However, Solo decides to gamble everything and spend more time with Eric under the guise of getting information.

Falling in love with a cop is a very dangerous proposition for a man in Solo’s position, so why can’t he walk away?

Dedication

To my dear friend, Kristina. Thank you for your continued advice and support.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Solo: Solo Cup Company

Nova: General Motors LLC

Harley: Harley Davison LLC

Honda Accord: Honda Motor Co., Ltd

Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation

Toyota: Toyota Jidosha Kabushiki Kaisha TA Toyota Motor Corporation

Wal-Mart: Wal-Mart Stores, Inc.

Spidey sense/Spiderman: Marvel Worldwide Inc.

Mustang: Ford Motor Company

Jack Daniels: Brown-Forman Corporation

Glock 9mm: Glock, Inc.

Smith & Wesson: Smith & Wesson Corp

Chapter One

Sam ‘Solo’ Braun leaned against the bar at Lucky’s and stared at the candy store laid out in front of him. He didn’t fit in with the rest of the patrons, which made him stick out in a good way. Men who were interested in sweet words, long walks or cuddling didn’t give him the time of day. Nope, those sweater-wearing assholes looked at a man like him for just one reason, they wanted to be fucked and fucked hard. Letting some corporate do-gooder ride his pole for an hour or so was all he was after, and he rarely had to wait long before the one he chose approached him.

Case in point… Solo had spotted the black-haired, light blue-eyed piece of ass the moment he’d walked in. Whoever the hell he was, Solo had never seen him in Lucky’s before. He would have remembered. Shit, the bastard making his cock hard was a snack wrapped in a package of snug blue jeans and a black T-shirt.

Those fucking eyes. He shook his head. He’d never seen anything like them. Light blue wasn’t quite the right word to describe them—they were the color of soft faded denim. Yeah, that’s exactly what color they were. Living the life he did, he decided right then that he didn’t give a shit what uptight name the sweet little package had been given because as far as he was concerned, his evening’s entertainment was named Blue.

Solo lifted his beer to his lips, but kept his gaze on the prize. He didn’t approach guys, ever. All he had to do was watch them until they eventually realized they had eyes on them and turned to find out who was staring.

Blue threw his head back and laughed at something his friend said, flashing a twin set of fuck-me dimples.

For a brief moment, Solo considered giving the guy a ride on his cock more than once just to see those dimples again. Christ, he groaned.

Before Solo could get too far into thinking once might not be enough, Blue pushed back his chair and stood. He grabbed the empty pitcher on the table and turned toward the bar.

Solo knew the moment Blue spotted him. One minute he had a grin on his face, and the next he’d stopped dead and met Solo’s gaze, his smile falling away in an instant. Solo continued to wait.

Blue set the empty pitcher on the bar. Another one, please, he told the bartender as he dug out his wallet. He glanced at Solo three times before eventually speaking. Hey.

Solo dipped his chin in reply.

It’s really crowded in here, Blue said.

Solo shrugged and finally gave in to his needs. There could be a thousand men in here, and I’d still have seen you.

Blue’s cheeks flushed as he handed the bartender a twenty. You wanna dance?

Solo shook his head. Instead, he pushed out the stool beside him with his booted foot. I don’t dance.

Blue bit his bottom lip and glanced over his shoulder at his friends. Would you wait for me to take this to the table and hit the restroom first?

Fair enough. Solo watched Blue go. He could always follow him and take care of business in there, but he wanted a closer look at those damn eyes, and the lighting above the urinals was all kinds of bullshit. No, he’d wait until he’d gotten his fill of Blue’s eyes before fucking him.

* * * *

Eric James stared at his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands. What the hell are you thinking, James? he asked himself. A man like that is trouble and you know it, he continued silently.

Fuck! he spat, knowing he was going back to the bar, regardless of how long he tried to talk himself out of it. Despite his misgivings, the man was too hot, too dangerous, too tattooed not to explore for a few hours. That Goddamn shoulder-length dark brown hair and those wicked brown eyes had attracted him, but that fucking black widow spider tattoo on the side of the guy’s neck had made him hard the moment he’d spotted it.

The door opened, and the biker walked in. Thought maybe you’d changed your mind, he grumbled, his voice so low it made Eric’s balls vibrate.

There was a line, Eric lied. He turned to face the biker. I’m Eric, by the way.

Solo.

Eric knew most bikers had street names, but Solo seemed odd for the tough sonofabitch backing him against the wall. Like the cup?

Solo stared down at Eric as if Eric had lost his damn mind. Why the fuck would I let people nickname me after a fucking red cup? Solo because I prefer to be alone. He pressed his much bigger body against Eric. Most of the time.

Eric felt a moment of panic but quickly pushed it back. Christ, he hadn’t realized how big Solo was. At five eleven, he knew he wasn’t qualified to play professional basketball, but he’d never before felt so damn small. There had to be at least a six inch height difference between them, and he had no clue how many pounds Solo had on him—not fat by any means. From what Eric could tell, Solo’s body was rock-hard perfection. He rested his hands on Solo’s chest. Oh, hell, yeah, there was hard muscle under his palms. Fuck.

You wanna get outta here, Blue? Solo cupped Eric’s ass. We can go back to your place or grab a hotel room down the street.

Eric wasn’t sure he cared for either option. He didn’t know Solo enough to take him home, and a hotel seemed so…seedy, but, damn, he liked the nickname Solo had already given him. What about your house?

Slowly, Solo shook his head. My place’s off limits.

Eric’s entire body went rigid. Fuck. He’d known it was too good to be true. He’d been in this situation before. You married?

Solo grinned. Nope. No wife, no girlfriend, no pussy of any kind, but it’s not uncommon for people to stop over at all hours. He squeezed Eric’s ass. Your place or a hotel?

God, please protect me, Eric prayed. I live a couple miles from here.

Good. Solo released Eric. Did you drive?

Eric shook his head. He’d been drinking, of course he hadn’t driven. Cab.

You can ride with me, Solo grunted before opening the restroom door.

Have you been drinking? Eric asked. He had no doubt there was a big motorcycle waiting for Solo in the parking lot, and he wasn’t about to hitch a ride with a drunk man, regardless of how sexy he was.

Two beers, but I was born drinking whiskey from my wasted mom’s tit, so I’m good. Solo curled his right hand around the back of Eric’s neck as they made their way through the crowd.

Eric caught his friend’s gaze as they passed the table and nodded toward Solo. No doubt he’d get raked over the coals by John later, but that didn’t deter him. He was going home with a sexy badass. All the years of fantasizing had finally come to an end.

The warm July air hit Eric as soon as they stepped outside. He opened his mouth to comment on it, but snapped his jaws shut without a word. They weren’t on a date, and he needed to remember that. He was going home with Solo for one reason, and that was to fuck. It wasn’t as though he was new to one-night stands, but he’d always preferred to spend a couple of carnal-filled days with men before parting ways. He glanced up at Solo. No way that was happening. Solo didn’t strike him as the kind of guy who would stay the night, much less the weekend.

Solo dug a set of keys out of his pocket before straddling the bike. He jerked his head, motioning for Eric to climb on behind him.

Although they didn’t live in a state with strict helmet laws, Eric was uncomfortable riding without one. No helmet?

Solo reached behind