Angel's Halo (Angel's Halo MC 1)

“No!” I struggle harder, fighting the guy with everything I have. My nails scratch down his face, and I feel his skin scraping away, leaving long bloody lines on his cheek. He only groans with pleasure. “Feisty. I love feisty.”

“Motherfucker!” The beast roars and the next thing I know I’m on the floor as the jock is lifted by his hair and thrown against the wall.

My heart races with a mixture of fear and—yeah, I’ll admit it—lust. Watching Bash get all animalistic like that always makes me hot no matter what. Especially when it’s because of me. I slowly get to my feet, grimacing because my ass aches a little from the fall.

A thump has me turning to find Bash with the guy pinned against the wall. He’s in the guy’s face whispering something that quickly sobers him up. Frightened eyes turn toward me and I catch the words “Angel’s Halo” and “dead” and “swallow your dick.” The normal threats.

“Bash.” I touch his arm, feeling his tense muscles rippling with every breath. He’s vibrating with rage, and I know that can be deadly for whomever is on the receiving end of that particular emotion.

I feel him shudder under my touch. Slowly that face I’ve loved from the time I was old enough to know what love was turns to look at me. Silver-blue eyes darken when his gaze meets mine. My heart aches being this close to him. Touching him makes me hurt in ways that no one will ever understand—myself included. Raising a hand that noticeably trembles, I push his dark hair back from his eyes. “Let him go, Bash.”

“He touched you,” Bash’s dark voice growls. “Did you want his hands on you?”

I raise a brow at his accusing tone. “If I say yes will you kill him?” When he tenses even more, I know that the answer was yes. “If I say no, will you kill him?” Even tenser, and I sigh. It’s a no win type of situation, so there’s only one option.

I push between Bash and the jock, my body against Bash’s big, hard one. All my female needs make me melt feeling him so close. “I’m a big girl, Bash. I can take care of myself. Do you see his face? He will remember me long after I’ve forgotten about him. Now stop being so territorial and let him go.”

“No.” I can see that he’s starting to come down from his rage high, the feel of my body against his own affecting him as nothing else can. A different kind of tension fills him and I’m rewarded with the pulsing of his hard dick against my stomach. “He touched you.”

I shrug. “He doesn’t know the rules, Bash. He’s strung out on who knows what. A weak man with a bored life. Let him go.”

“Jet would have killed him,” He mutters.

I smile just a little. “Yes. It takes a stronger man than this one to stand up against my brother. You did.” I remember the night that Jet had punished Bash and it makes my stomach roll all over again. My smile disappears. “Does your arm still hurt?”

“When it rains.” Which it had tonight. Hating the thought of him hurting, I reach out and trace the line on his left forearm—the one that had to be put back together with surgery after Jet finished with him. The scar goes all the way from his wrist to his elbow, and I let my fingers caress the puckered flesh. It’s still pink and angry looking. A year has gone by since he had gotten it.

“Let him go, Bash.” I whisper, pushing myself against him. “Take me home.”

Chapter 5

Raven

Bash has been a part of my life almost as long as my brothers have. His aunt and uncle lived beside of me my entire life. When Bash’s dad, Marl, died they took him in and raised him as their own; he’s just as much of a son to them as Matt and Tanner. As soon as he was old enough, Bash became a member of Angel’s Halo. Being a biker was like a family trade to most of the guys, and everyone expected Bash to climb the ranks of the MC.

Marl Reid had been my father’s enforcer, making sure that punishments got dealt with in the proper fashion and all that bullshit. When my dad died and the Originals figured that Angel’s Halo needed a younger generation to take over as president, they handed everything over to Jet. My brother had wanted only one man as his enforcer. Bash was barely twenty-two when he became the new enforcer. No one wanted the punishments when they were being given out by the beast that was Bash Reid, so bikers rarely got into trouble within the club. To this day they are still terrified of Bash. I was sure that if he had been around when Westcliffe had gone rogue, things would have gone a lot differently.

I was fifteen the first time I knew I wanted Bash. My brothers all thought it was a crush. Even at that tender age I knew I wanted him for keeps, and there was nothing that would keep him from me. So I took my time, let him see how much of a woman I’d become, and waited to make my move.

At sixteen I let him know that I wanted him. Bash wasn’t like some of the fucktards within Angel’s Halo. He didn’t do jailbait, and that’s exactly what I was. I knew that I needed to mark my territory, so I did.

He was lying in the hammock in the Reids’ backyard, looking bored and more than a little tired after the run the guys had been on over the weekend. His silver-blue eyes were closed and I took a moment just to soak in the sight of the man I wanted. Hair as black as a raven’s wing fell to his shoulders. The white tank he wore stretched tightly across stone-hard muscles. Veins bulged in his arms, and I wanted to trace every one of them with my tongue nearly as much as I wanted to explore what was beneath those low riding distressed jeans. Even now, when I hated him as much as I loved him, I ached to touch and taste him. The man was an addiction that I was never likely to kick.

Catching him by surprise, I dropped into the hammock, letting my fingers trail over one of those veins. My fingertips prickled with electricity from just touching him like that, and my breath caught in my throat.

Bash grunted something under his breath and opened his eyes, startling silver-blue shooting lightning as he watched my fingers caressing over his flesh. “Raven?” My name came out in a rough growl.

I smiled and looked at him from beneath my lashes. “Seeing if you feel as hard as you look.”

“Oh yeah?” His dark voice lowered, the sound making me shiver with pleasure. “Am I?”

“More like velvet covered steel.” I told him honestly, tracing the bulging vein along the inside of his forearm. “Do you always feel this hot? It’s nearly scalding.”

“You’re going down a dangerous road, Raven.” He caught my hand, stopping my caresses, but didn’t push me away or let me go.

“I just wanted to let you know that …” My courage faltered for just a second, but then I sucked it up and let him have it. “I want you, Bash. I want to be yours.”

His eyes widened with a mixture of desire and apprehension. We both knew the rule. No one touches Raven Hannigan. It only bothered me when I thought of Bash being unable to touch me because of that dumbass rule. “You want to be my ol’ lady?”