Cowboy Bikers MC #1 - Esther E. Schmidt Page 0,2

speck of dirt on those things. Not to mention the cutoff jean shorts she’s wearing. They are pulled up so freaking high it would take one sneeze for her ass to swallow them whole.

She’s a bitch. She hates me and in return, I hate her. But that’s more like a necessity since she’s made my life miserable ever since she thought I stole her boyfriend. Which obviously I didn’t. He broke it off with her and I can’t help it if he asked me to go out. And for the record...I turned him down because I wasn’t even allowed to go out on a date when I was sixteen.

Didn’t matter to queen bitch. It was all my fault. Like I said, she’s always had it in for me. The last time she tried to rip me a new asshole was the day my father and brother died. Over a damn red T-shirt for crying out loud. Who does that? Queen bitch, that’s who. She thinks the whole world belongs to her.

I should have walked away and let her have the damn t-shirt, but I was having a shitty day and wanted the cute red shirt with stupid sparkles. The bitch even had the freaking nerve to swing by that night to demand the shirt. She was surprised when I opened the door. I bet she was expecting my brother so she could show some boob and steal the freaking shirt or something.

I hate that shirt now. It’s somehow linked with the whole heart torn moment of losing my father and brother. I can’t get myself to put it on. It’s still in the same place I threw it after I almost broke my neck over the damn thing and hurt my ankle. If I did wear it, I’m pretty sure I’d jinx myself because ever since I touched that shirt...everything in my life went wrong.

“What the hell are you doing here, bitch?” Trixy starts and wants to throw some more words at me but she’s too busy dodging manure so she doesn’t ruin her precious red boots.

Ignoring her, I hand the towel back to Roper. The two bikers with cowboy hats almost reach me when I turn.

“Hey, bitch,” Trixy snaps again. “I’m talking to you.”

“Trix, shut your fuckin’ mouth.” A deep rumble of a voice puts Trixy in her place while this voice ignites goose bumps to spread all over my arms.

Goose bumps. In this freaking heat. Don’t turn around, Harlene. Don’t you dare turn around. Get into the vehicle and get the hell out of here. I order myself, but it’s useless as I spin on my heels and let my gaze connect with the bluest of eyes.

Holy shit this man is hot. Not just hot—licking my lips while my fingers trace his scruffy jaw, muscled arms, all those tattoos, and kiss that freaking dimple, riding his dick to see if it’s all worth it—damn hot. Shit. I knew I should have gotten inside my SUV, hit the gas and never looked back.

Now I know the reason my daddy kept me away from here; because of the whole ‘sex on hot legs’ distraction in front of me.

Shit. The realization makes me swallow hard and close my eyes to push back the tears flaring up due to all the emotions hitting me hard. When I open them up, I have to blink fast since Trixy is standing close. Good thing there’s some manure in front of me or she’d be right in my face.

Though it doesn’t stop her from hissing out the words, “What’s wrong, bitch? Still crying over your daddy? It should have been you, you’re such a fuck up.”

CHAPTER TWO

— Weston —

Freckles. Sexy as fuck freckles are dusted over her sweet button nose and rosy cheeks, highlighting them some more. Add the strawberry blonde hair in pigtails long enough to hide her perky nipples of those lush tits her white tank is barely keeping in place, and my cock is damn fucking hard imaging all the things I want to do with her. Not to mention the curves on this woman.

No wonder her father always kept us away. Okay, it’s mostly the rumors about us fucking all the available women living around here, but come on, it takes two to tango and every willing pussy is welcome to take some dance lessons.

Like Trixy; the one strutting toward the vet, carefully dodging the manure. She thinks she’s high-class but she throws her panties on the floor without thinking and