Beast: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hounds of Hades MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 3) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  Beast: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hounds of Hades MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 3) copyright 2017 by Naomi West. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

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  Contents

  Beast: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hounds of Hades MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 3)

  Beast: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hounds of Hades MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 3)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  He Doesn’t Know: A Bad Boy Second Chance Baby Romance (Devil’s Route MC)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  Bull: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Asphalt Angels MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 2)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Books by Naomi West

  Stud: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Cobra Kings MC)

  He Doesn’t Care: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Motorcycle Club Romance (Fourstroke Fiends MC)

  Ride Dirty: Vegas Vipers MC

  Baby Blues: Satan Seed MC

  Baby with the Savage: The Motor Saints MC

  Baby with the Beast: Seven Sinners MC

  Wild Child: The Wylde Ones MC

  Diesel Daddy: Skull Riders MC

  Mailing List

  Beast: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Hounds of Hades MC) (Asphalt Sins Book 3)

  By Naomi West

  He ripped me apart like a savage beast.

  The bad boy biker came to the auto shop to fix things up..

  Then he came to my bedroom to break me down.

  But when someone I trusted turns out to be a monster, I have no other choice:

  I have to beg the outlaw to protect me.

  JESSI

  Rip is an engine, a dynamo, loud and dirty and aggressive as hell.

  And just like the bikes he loves, he’s dying to tear me apart.

  Piece by piece, bit by bit, he’s going to dismantle me – just for his own savage pleasure.

  But when he’s done…

  He sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to put me back together.

  It’s not just my body that’s falling apart under the biker’s touch, either.

  My dreams for the future are crumbling to dust at the same time.

  I thought a college education would be my ticket to the big time.

  Fame, fortune, the whole nine yards.

  But it turns out Rip isn’t the only beast who’s hungering for a bite of me.

  There’s far worse out there, hiding their cruel vices behind friendly faces.

  And all of them -all of these animals – want one thing and one thing only:

  To shove me down onto my knees and make me their property.

  RIP

  She was a pretty little peach…

  And she f**king hated my guts from the second I walked in her daddy’s chop shop.

  That only made me laugh.

  I love a good challenge.

  And even though she’s far from my first vicious conquest…

  This little vixen will be the most fun yet.

  Go ahead and resist, I tell her.

  We’ll see how long you last.

  But then something happened that I never anticipated.

  Jessi begged me for my help.

  There’s someone else who thinks they can lay their hands on my woman.

  Hell f**king no.

  I don’t share; I don’t play nice.

  And if this creepy son of a b!tch plans on touching so much as a hair on her head…

  I’ll rally every damn brother in my motorcycle club and we’ll bring burning hellfire to his doorstep.

  I’ll make him suffer and plead for mercy.

  And right before I end him, I’ll tell him the one thing in this world that’s a pure f**king fact:

  She. Is. Mine.

  Chapter One

  Jessi

  I looked around the old shop, smiling sadly to myself. Gosh, I had basically grown up here, playing hide-and-seek when I was a kid, and helping my father out with various things once I got older. Greyhound Custom Motorcycles was one of the most successful chop shops in the state for as long as I could remember, and I always took pride in my father's ability to transform even the most boring, basic machine into something beautiful that practica
lly purred as it raced down the highway.

  Everything was going to change soon, though, and I wasn't sure how to break that news to my father.

  Again, I fingered the letter that I had folded carefully into the pocket of my overalls. I honestly hadn't expected a school to accept me—not with my lack of formal design experience and my utter lack of engineering experience. I was good at math, but there was a lot more to automotive engineering than that.

  Once I started attending classes (in just over a month, I reminded myself), I wasn't going to have much time to work around the shop—at least, not like I normally did.

  The thing was, I didn't really think Dad would be supportive of any of it. I mean, he'd been harping on me for a few years now to go back to school and get a university education, but I'd hung around the shop, trying to figure out what exactly I wanted to do with my life. He and I had never really seen eye to eye on that. I'd known for a while now that I would be perfectly happy designing bikes for the rest of my life. He wanted me to go into something ...a little more traditional. Given how good I was at math, he'd been pushing me toward computer engineering for a while now.

  Besides, I didn't really know how we were going to afford any of it. For all that he'd been pushing for me to go to university, the shop just didn't turn enough of a profit for that to really be a possibility. I'd been doing a little work over at a coffee shop on the side, but even with that money and the salary that my father was able to pay me, it wouldn't be enough to pay for one year at school, let alone more than that, unless he was able to net some really big projects.

  But I wanted to do this. If nothing else, I wanted Dad to trust me a little more around the shop. With all the time that I'd put in there over the years, I felt like I could be doing more—maybe doing some of my own designs or … well, just something. Instead, he had me doing the same things that I'd already done hundreds of times before—mostly paint jobs.. All of it based on his own ideas, and he gave me very clear instructions about what he wanted.

  Maybe if I had a degree in automotive engineering, he would treat me more like a partner of sorts and turn over some of the business to me so that I could finally try my hand at bringing some of my own ideas to life.

  I swallowed hard and knocked on the door to my dad's office—a formality that I didn't usually practice. So he knew before I even entered that something was up.

  “What's wrong?” he asked the moment I entered.

  I tried a smile, knowing I must look as nervous as I felt. “Nothing's wrong,” I told him. “Just-”

  Before I could finish what I was saying, the door to the shop flew open and Rip Harris strolled in as though he owned the place, full of attitude. I recognized him because he'd been in there quite a few times in the past. The local motorcycle club, the Hounds of Hades, were some of my dad's best customers.

  I felt a shudder travel up my spine at the sight of Rip. The bad-boy motorcycle guy was definitely way off limits for me, but I had eyes, and I knew that the man was sexy. With his tattoos spiraling up his muscular arms and that dark, floppy hair that fell into his piercing eyes … I bet he could get any girl in the city if he wanted to. Of course, Dad would freak out if he knew I was looking at Rip like that, even if there was no chance that Rip and I would ever do anything.

  Rip seemed to know the effect that he had on me, though, and he always leered at me when he came in, winking at me when Dad wasn't looking. Of course, Dad wasn't oblivious, and this time, he hardly needed to look at Rip before he was turning to me, giving me a pointed look. “Why don't you go get to work inventorying the store room?” he asked me.

  It was busy work, and we both knew that. But Rip wouldn't realize it. I rolled my eyes a little because I was a big girl now and he didn't need to protect me from Rip's looks, but I wasn't about to argue with him in front of one of his clients. So I bit my tongue and went off to the back room, giving one last glance toward Rip, who was currently eyeing my legs, making me feel a bit self-conscious even though I was fully covered by overalls.

  I wanted to say something to him, but I felt suddenly shy. Instead, I just smiled a little, ducked my head, and went back into the back room.

  I wondered what sort of project he might have brought Dad, and even without knowing the details, I started thinking through what our work schedule would have to be like over the coming weeks. It had been a while since the Hounds of Hades had been into the shop, so it really could be anything—just a little tune-up, or possibly some big project. I just didn't know, and I wouldn't know until Rip was out of there and Dad came to give me the run-down. But either way, we were going to be pushing things. We already had quite a bit on our plates at the moment, and with college starting up soon …

  I kind of wished I'd had a chance to talk to Dad before Rip had shown up. I really hoped he wasn't about to agree to more than he'd be able to handle on his own, if I was off in classes. And I didn't think he'd be on board with my idea to hire someone else to cover my shifts during the week while I was at university; he was keen on keeping this in the family, and there would be that question of money again. We couldn't really afford to divert any of the money from the shop to someone else, unfortunately.

  I frowned and shook my head, grabbing a clipboard and beginning to do inventory. It didn't really need to be done, but I liked to keep myself busy while I was there at the shop, and if I was banished from the actual floor of the shop until Rip left, I might as well make myself useful. Maybe there were some organizational projects that I could tackle as well …

  I flicked on the radio and hummed along to myself, reflecting not for the first time about how lucky I was to have grown up into a business that I was truly passionate about.

  Chapter Two

  Jessi

  I could feel Dad's eyes on me from the doorway, but he waited patiently for me to finish counting out some of the merchandise before he spoke. “So that was an interesting visit,” he told me, coming in to sit on one of the stools. He was drumming his fingers on his knee, which I knew meant he was thinking hard about something.

  It was a big project, then. Or at least an interesting one. I was intrigued.

  “What did Rip want?” I asked.

  “He actually came on behalf of his boss,” Dad said. “It's J.T. who wants something done this time—but I guess I should thank my lucky stars that he's too busy to personally pay me a visit!”

  I made a noise of agreement, hopping up on one of the stools next to Dad, facing him. I'd never actually met J.T.—normally when he needed something, he sent Rip. He'd popped by a few times, though, and I knew he made Dad nervous. I supposed the guy must have an impatient, angry streak if he was able to run one of the most successful biker gangs in the area. And Dad had never really been the tough guy, for all his love of bikes.

  “It's actually a really big commission,” Dad went on. “Apparently J.T. wants an entirely new bike—and he's left the full design of it up to me, pretty much.” He shook his head, looking amazed. “I mean, I know the guy is loaded, but I can't even imagine …”

  I grimaced a little, thinking of just what type of trade that sort of money was probably coming from. But then again, that could be my ticket to college right there …

  “That's incredible,” I told Dad, shaking my head as well. “I could help you with the design of it. I have some ideas that-”

  “No,” Dad interrupted, shaking his head with a frown on his face. “Look, Jessi—I wouldn't think that I needed to tell you how important this project is. This is a big deal. I mean, we already have the Hounds of Hades as some of our major business, but a custom design like this could really launch us, especially because J.T. wants it ready for this big Fourth of July meet-up this summer. If everyone sees him riding a bike that I built ...”

  “Dad, I get that,” I said patiently. “But I've got some great designs. I'm not saying that you would have to let me take over the project or anything like that—not even close. We could work together on it, though. You could
help me with one of my ideas, help me see any flaws in it, and teach me how to fix them. Or-”

  “Absolutely not.” Dad was shaking his head, his face looking stormy. It was very rare that I actually saw him upset, but when he got frustrated with me … “Jessi, this project needs to be perfect. We need to hit all the deadlines, and we need to turn around our best work yet. You're just going to have to trust me on this one.”

  “You never let me help out with anything fun,” I complained, not caring how young and bratty I sounded. No matter how many times I insisted on helping him out with designs, he never changed his mind on this point, and he always relegated the most menial tasks to me. I wasn't sure how to make him see that I had grown up, and that I kind of knew what I was doing by now. Except …

  “The University of Knightsbridge thinks I have some talent anyway,” I told him, pulling the letter out of my pocket. This wasn't how I had pictured telling him about my acceptance into college, and I was definitely leaving him in the lurch now that I knew exactly how huge the new project was (especially if J.T. wanted everything ready to ride by the start of July, which was practically right around the corner!). But at the same time, maybe this would make him see that I could be trusted around the shop every once in a while.

  “What is this?” Dad asked, opening the letter.

  I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I've finally decided to go back to school, like you keep telling me to do,” I told him. “I know that it's expensive, but I figure that I can live at home and keep working around the shop on the weekends. And-”