Ravage (Book 2): Demon Riders MC, #2

By Naomi West

This is book 2 of the Demon Riders MC romance series! Book 3 is available everywhere now!

I CAME TO HURT HER. I STAYED TO SAVE HER.

I used to think I had my life all planned out.

Take over the MC when my father dies, marry a lady from the club, and maybe have a kid or two.

That was before my dad gave me a mission with his dying breath.

Now, I have to find some girl I've never met and do whatever it takes to reclaim the fortune that rightfully belongs to the Demon Riders MC.

But when I find the girl I'm looking for, all my plans fall apart.

She's too damn beautiful and the sex is too hot.

I can't do the bad things I was sent to do.

Especially when she confesses that she knows nothing about our missing fortune.

But when she's stolen from me by a rival mafia group, money is the last thing I'm thinking about.

I'll protect my woman, at all costs.

And I'll slaughter any man who tries to take her from me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MBK Hanson Inc.
• Release date: Nov 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393479130

Naomi West

Motorcycle club romance that will blow you away... Naomi West is a best-selling author of motorcycle romance novels that will get your heart pumping and your panties melting. Sign up for her mailing list to receive new release alerts, free giveaways, and much more! Follow this link to join:  http://bit.ly/NaomiWestMailingList

Book preview

Ravage: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Demon Riders MC) (Book 2)

By Naomi West

I CAME TO HURT HER. I STAYED TO SAVE HER.

I USED TO THINK I HAD my life all planned out.

Take over the MC when my father dies, marry a lady from the club, and maybe have a kid or two.

That was before my dad gave me a mission with his dying breath.

Now, I have to find some girl I’ve never met and do whatever it takes to reclaim the fortune that rightfully belongs to the Demon Riders MC.

But when I find the girl I’m looking for, all my plans fall apart.

She’s too d@mn beautiful and the $ex is too hot.

I can’t do the bad things I was sent to do.

Especially when she confesses that she knows nothing about our missing fortune.

But when she’s stolen from me by a rival mafia group, money is the last thing I’m thinking about.

I’ll protect my woman, at all costs.

And I’ll slaughter any man who tries to take her from me.

Chapter 1

Cora

Itry and go about my normal routine: get up, shower, cover my tattoos and get to work. But for the third day in a row as soon as I sit up my belly twists and I have to run through my apartment to the bathroom, sprinting at full speed so that my vomit hits the bowl and not the floor, or the wall, which happened the first time this horrible sickness struck. I hate calling into work, because my contract sucks and I know that sooner or later they’ll just replace me, but more than anything I hate being sick because I can’t sing. I try to, but then my belly punishes me for it with another round of sickness.

A large part of it comes from fear: fear of not knowing what’s happening to me, fear created by checking the Internet for symptoms. At first I thought it was a twenty-four-hour bug, but the Internet informed me that I could very well have a rare form of brain tumor with symptoms only showing up in my belly. After I call work—apologizing, groveling—I call the doctor and arrange an appointment. Luckily, I get health insurance with the dentist job.

I drive to the doctor with a brown paper bag on the passenger seat, ready for round two—or three, or four, or five. I pull to a stop and take a deep breath, telling myself I’m not going to be sick. I won’t let that happen. No way. I take several deep breaths, repeating this mantra to myself. And then I’m sick in the paper bag and I get out of the car, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

Sitting in the doctor’s office is hell, with the little kid in front of me whining at his mom to give him her credit card information for some cellphone game, an old lady sitting next to me who seems intent on winning the Fart of the Week competition, and a teenage boy who reeks of weed opposite me, who keeps glancing up and smiling as though in invitation. I close my eyes and think of Loki strutting into Asgard to insult all of the gods, accusing them of all sorts of things, like saying Freya sleeps around too much, before Thor comes in to stop the nonsense. That calms me a little. By the time the doctor calls me in, I’m thirty percent certain I’m not going to puke again.

The doctor is a tall, wide-built woman who reminds me of pictures of my own mother: sturdy and maternal in all the ways I’m not. She wears her hair in blonde ringlets to her shoulders. I think her voice is sweet until she says, You’re pregnant.

What? I reply, sitting on the chair opposite her with my hands between my legs. I don’t think I heard you properly. What did you say?

Miss Ash, I am happy to say that you are expecting!

Happy, I repeat.

She squints at me. A picture of a mountain hangs from the wall with the caption: No Climb Too Tough! I want to ball it up and shove it down her throat when she next opens her mouth. "A baby is always a blessing, I’m sure you’ll agree,