Desire: Big Bear Outlaw MC Romance Book 1

DESIRE: Big Bear
Outlaw
MC Romance 1

Charlotte Byrd

Description

He
shouldn
’
t have been an outlaw, I
shouldn
’
t have fallen for him
…

EMMA

Jack Hart was all
wrong for me. He was in the Big Bear Outlaw Motorcycle Club. I was
studying pre-med. He was a criminal, and I
’
ve never even
jaywalked.

After my mom had
left, the last thing I wanted was a relationship.But then I started
falling for Jack. Why did he have to have a girlfriend? Why did I
have to go out with his brother?

JACK

My family ran the MC,
but there was so much more to me than the MC. I was a writer and I
didn
’
t belong. The only person who saw this was
Emma.

Why did I have to
have a girlfriend? Why did she have to go out with my
brother?

Heat Level: Sensual and
Hot!

Desire is the first
installment of a 3-part Big Bear Outlaw MC Romance series. It is a
short read, and all three installments will come out a week apart.
You won
’
t have to wait long to read the rest of the
story!

Copyright
©
2015 by Charlotte Byrd.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used
or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical,
including photocopying, taping, and recording without written
permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in
critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of
fiction.

All the characters,
organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either
products of the author
’
s imagination or
used fictitiously.
 

Wild Huckleberry Press

Yucca Valley,
California

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’
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Prologue

EMMA

When I saw him park his brand-new
motorcycle, my palms grew cold, and I started to shiver. He took
off his helmet, tossed his long blonde hair and nodded to me. I had
seen him around campus. He was in my English class, but
we
’
ve never spoken.

Jack Hart was all wrong for me. We
had nothing in common. He was in a motorcycle club, the Big Bear
Outlaw MC. I was going to study pre-med at a real college next year
(hopefully at the University of Southern California). He was
probably a criminal, and I have never even jaywalked. Besides, I
was stuck living at home with my father. He
’
s an alcoholic cop,
who disapproved of guys, particularly those with criminal
records.

And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about how Jack's
leather jacket hugged his broad shoulders. Or the way that his butt
filled out his tight jeans.

I desired him.

“
You
’
re Emma, right?
”
Jack turned to face me. Lost in
thought, I hadn
’
t seen him approach me!

“
Emma Crawford, right? We have English
together?
”

Jack stepped close to me. We were breathing the same
air, and I wondered if he could hear my heartbeat through my
shirt.

“
Yes,
”
I mumbled and nodded.

“
Nice to meet you,
”
he extended his strong, rough hand
and flashed a wide open smile.
“
I
’
m Jack
Hart.
”

I shook his hand, and my panties got wet.

Chapter 1

EMMA

I came home from school to the perpetual smell of
vomit, which permeated the house. Dad was drunk again, just as he
had been every day since my mother left, a month ago.

Mom had been threatening to leave
for some time. I used to sit in my room listening to their fighting
through my headphones - my parents could always scream louder than
Taylor Swift. Mom had left before, but this time she packed her
bags and even took the things from storage. She had left for good,
and she wasn
’
t coming back.

When Mom was still around, Dad had a reason to hide
his drinking. He was embarrassed by what he was. But now that she
was gone, he spent his days in a drunken stupor.

I came home and went straight to my room. Dad and I
were ships passing in the night. He was too wasted to notice me,
and I was too angry to acknowledge the person whose vomit I had to
clean up from the living room floor every evening.

The only person who knew the truth was my friend
Delilah. Her mother was an alcoholic too, and when she came over to
my house to work on our biology project, she knew what was going on
right away. She was the only one who understood why I never wanted
to invite anyone over. Why I was reluctant about her coming, why I
rarely wanted to be home and why I had to be there to make sure
that he was okay.

Delilah understood the confusing
bundle of hate and love that I felt for my family and made me
promise to call her if I ever needed anything. I
didn
’
t want to make that promise, but I did.

Delilah and I were unlikely friends. She was
outgoing and adventuresome, and I was a recluse. I was shy and
standoffish. When Mom was still around, we used to fight about what
I did on my weekends: she wanted me to go out and party and I
wanted to stay in and read.

I was 20 when Mom left, old enough to both move out
on my own and to take care of Dad.

I was in conflict.

On one hand, I wanted to go to my room and stay
there, hidden away from the world forever. On the other hand, I
wanted to get out of the house and away from the man who I was
starting to hate more and more every day.

And so I remained stuck here, in
my parents
’
house, attending community college even though I got
into UCLA and Berkeley. The longer I stayed in the house, the more
I hated Dad and hated myself for hating him. My only hope now was
that they would accept me again when I submitted my transfer
applications.

Sitting in my room and painting my nails Damsel in
Distress, a dark plum color that reflected the hopelessness that I
felt inside, I had a realization. Dad spent his hours laying on the
couch with a garbage can of throw up next to his head and the only
way that I could escape that image was to escape.

My hatred for my mother and what she had done and my
hatred my father and the pathetic sight that he had become was
leaking out of my pores, contaminating everything that I touched.
The only way to break free was to avoid being alone.

My phone rang.

“
Want to go to a party with me?
”
Delilah
asked.

I nodded yes,
to the phone, but still asked,
“
What kind
of party?
”

“
Just some older guys, not from the school.
I
’
m
not sure exactly, but it should be fun.
”

Older guys sounded fun. Older guys typically had
nice haircuts, jobs with steady paychecks, suits with dress shirts
and ties and newer cars. Older guys would probably not know about
my family situation, the news of which had already spread through
our small town, and resulted in many uncalled-for sympathetic looks
and occasional smirks.

“
That sounds good,
”
I said.

I could use a night out with
strangers who didn
’
t know anything about me. With them, I
didn
’
t I didn
’
t have to be some sad girl with a mother who
didn
’
t want her and a father who was killing himself in the
slowest and most grotesque way possible.

Chapter
2

EMMA

Delilah picked me up at seven. I got into her old
red Mazda Miata, and we sped away from my small 1950s house with
the falling fence and overgrown weeds. Watching the world that I
was leaving behind in the side mirror, I imagined what it would be
like to leave it for good. To get into a car and just drive away,
far away from a place with so many bad memories.

But to leave for good I had to be smart.

I couldn't just drive away - I
would just get stuck in another town like this one, working a job I
hated. School was my way out, and I had submitted transfer
applications to five schools, as far away as possible from
Joshua
Tree, California, this
claustrophobic town in the middle of the Mojave desert.

“
I met this guy at the gas station this afternoon,
he
’
s really cute and drives a motorcycle,
”
Delilah was one of
those people who was always in mid-sentence.

“
Have you ever been on a motorcycle?
”

I was going to nod, but she
didn
’
t wait for my answer.
“
Me neither. I really
want him to take me out on it.
”

“
Who is he?
”

“
I don
’
t really know, his name is Carter Daniels,
he
’
s a few years older. He
’
s a mechanic and
works at that shop where all the bikers hang out, out on Highway
62.
”

I knew of the place. It was in the industrial part
of town, surrounded by large flat warehouses with enormous parking
lots. Without a single tree or shrub for nearly a square mile, the
place felt like a concrete box.

There was no life there
–
not one
bird hopped around looking for crumbs, not one mouse or feral cat
made a home there. There were only leather, motorcycles and car
parts.

I immediately regretted agreeing
to go with Delilah to this party. It wasn't my scene. Even though I
didn't have a specific scene, bikers definitely
weren
’
t it.