Hounds of Hell MC 8: Player

Heather — Brick promised me a good paying job. I just didn’t know he was working for a cartel. When their money went missing, I was hunted along with him, used and finally left with the Hounds of Hell MC in Mercy to answer for his crimes. If not for Player, I would have wound up dead or worse. He claimed me as his old lady to keep me from being turned over to the cartel. He shielded me, fought for me. And somehow, I started to believe I mattered again. The cartel is still gunning for me, but Player’s not backing down. He says I’m his, and I want to be. If we can survive this.

Player — I’m called Player for a reason. My life’s been a string of one-night stands and bad decisions. Until Heather. She’s scared and in over her head, but there’s something about her I can’t shake. When Brick left her in Mercy, running from the cartel he stole from, I made a choice. I don’t care what she’s done or what they think she knows. Heather is under my protection now. And if anyone wants her, they’ll have to go through me — and every single brother I’ve got.

Warning: Player contains adult language, explicit sex, violence, threats of torture, stalking, and references to past emotional abuse. It also features a dirty-talking alpha biker who will cross every line to protect the woman he claims as his own.

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Excerpt

Player

Player leaned forward. “Do you know exactly what he did?”

Heather shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t. I asked once. He just said the less I knew, the safer I’d be.”

Player exhaled sharply, leaning back again. “Classic bullshit. What did he say to get you to go with him?”

She hesitated. “He told me they’d be looking for me too. That I was part of it now. That if I didn’t come with him, I’d be left behind to deal with the fallout. He said… he’d protect me.”

Of course he did. Fucking coward. “And after that?”

Her voice got quieter. “Then there were expectations. Rules. Things I was supposed to do. How I was supposed to act. What I wore. Who I talked to. And if I didn’t…” She shook her head again, like she could rattle the memories loose. “That’s when the bruises started.”

The silence between them tightened. Player fucking knew it. But hearing her say it like that, raw but without asking for sympathy, burned through him like moonshine going down wrong. So, she had to fuck him, do what he said and when she didn’t, Brick smacked her around.

Turns out, wasn’t all she’d done. Heather carried everything that had happened, and Brick had robbed her as much as he had the cartel. She still sat across from him and looked him in the eye.

Oh, he hoped his brothers found the asshole and brought him back. He wanted to kill Brick himself.

“And then he just… left me after all,” her voice finally broke on that note. He watched her burying her face in her hands, tears coming on. “I guess I was just a down payment or something.”

Player couldn’t take the sight of her breaking down anymore. Her shoulders were shaking, her face buried in her hands like she was trying to hide the shame someone else had put there. It all cut way deeper than he was ready for. Shoving back his chair, he walked around the table and dropped into a crouch by her side. He just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in.

Heather stiffened for a second before giving in, leaning into him like she’d been holding herself up for too long. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder, and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He didn’t like the way she was shaking.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, low and rough against her temple. “You’re safe now, all right? They can’t get to you here.”

She didn’t speak or move, just clung to him. Slowly, she lifted her head. Those gorgeous green eyes were glassy, her cheeks wet with tears. For a moment, she just looked at him, her gaze moving over his face.

And then she kissed him. He could tell it wasn’t planned. Hell, it wasn’t even careful. It was desperate, trembling, and full of everything she didn’t know how to say. He tasted guilt and fear on her lips. He felt her need to feel anything else but broken. 

Player froze, startled. It wasn’t because he didn’t want it. He did, but he didn’t expect it as an exchange for comforting her. When he kissed her back, he was gentle, no pressure. He just savored the warmth of his mouth against hers. He held her steady. 

She pulled back first, her eyes wide like maybe she regretted it already. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have–”

“Don’t,” he cut in softly. “Don’t apologize.” He didn’t regret it at all. The taste of her on his lips was so sweet.

Heather didn’t let him go but kept her arms around his broad neck. Something shifted in those wide, green eyes, like she’d quietly made up her mind about something. And in the span of a heartbeat, her lips were back on his. She was fire against him as she moved closer. 

Player did his best to balance them both from where he crouched on the floor next to her chair. Her enthusiasm tipped him over, and he hit the cold concrete floor hard with her arms around his neck, her lips dancing with his. His gaze locked with hers as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on the floor next to her chair.

“Darlin’,” Player whispered. “I like where this is going. And I can’t believe I’m saying this but, are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you with all the shit you’re going through.”

Maybe it was the alcohol talking. Maybe it was truly her wanting him. Heat flashed in those beautiful green eyes as she hovered above him. “Is this the ladies’ man of your club having second thoughts?”

Player grinned up at her. “As much as I’d like for this to play out,” he said carefully, “yeah, I’d like to know that this is really what you want tonight.”

Heather didn’t appear to be backing off. “What would it take to convince you?”

“Kiss me like you mean it,” he said, holding her gaze.

Then she did.