Ghost
Book 3
Forced into prostitution at the age of 17, Shelly has never known the soft touch of a man. She's found them to be cruel and vicious. But when she sees him across the room - the man they call Ghost - she knows he's unlike anyone she's ever met before.
Ghost has noticed her. How could he not? Those legs. Those curves. That gorgeous mouth. But Ghost isn't ready for an old lady, and his beast won't settle for anything less when it comes to Shelly. So he keeps his distances and watches. And waits.
When Ghost realizes Shelly is being forced to sell her body, and that her pimp is a little too free with his fists, he realizes he can't sit back and wait any longer. Charging in on his Harley, he swoops in and rescues the damsel in distress. There's only one problem. Who's going to rescue him from her?
WARNING: Contains adult content, abuse, and forced prostitution. But there's a guaranteed HEA and no cliffhanger.
SNEAK PEEK ... Rated R
“Oh, fuck yeah, baby!” Crimson pounded into Shelly like he hadn’t just fucked her a half hour ago. She made all the appropriate noises, squeezed his cock as hard as she could, but in the end it was just a job. A really fucked up job. He finished with a groan, then pulled out of her. With a slap on her ass, he trudged into the bathroom.
Shelly pulled down her dress and watched him, waiting for the right moment.
“I’m going to get cleaned up,” he said as he pulled off the condom. “And while I’m in here taking a shower, you’re going to get your ass out of my room.”
Once upon a time, she’d have felt dirty if she’d been discarded so easily. Felt used. But those emotions had been closed down a long time ago. She might as well have been a sex doll for all that it affected her. The last time she’d had an orgasm was…hell, she couldn’t even remember. She wasn’t sure she’d recognize an orgasm if she had one at this point. Sex was a means to an end. Mostly it kept her alive and fed.
With his back turned to her, Shelly knew she had precious seconds for the next part of her job. She snagged his wallet out of his discarded jeans and opened it up. Her heart sank when she saw it was only a few hundred, but she palmed it just the same. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as sneaky as she’d thought.
Crimson wrapped his hand around her throat and slammed her into the wall. “You’re going to fucking steal from me? You’re a dumber bitch than I thought. I knew there was something off, but I never thought you were a thief.”
She dropped the money and clawed at the hand holding her hostage as black dots swam before her. Shelly gasped for air as her lungs protested. Clawing at his hand, his arm, even reaching for his face, she kicked her feet as she tried to find purchase on the carpeted floor. Would he really kill her over such a small sum? She knew the bikers could be hardcore, but so could she.
“Just how many others have you stolen from since you’ve been here?” He sneered. “You’re nothing but a fucking whore.”
She couldn’t deny his words. They were true. But it wasn’t the money she got from the M.C. that made her the whore. Well, not the money she stole at any rate. It seemed the big, bad bikers weren’t aware that their Pres paid her pimp good money every month to send a handful of girls to the clubhouse every day so there would always be willing pussy available. Sure, there were some women who showed up on their own from the small town of Ashton Grove, but Shelly and the other whores were a sure thing, a guaranteed release for the men in the Loup Garous M.C., Ashton Grove chapter.
Crimson let her go and she fell to her knees.
“Get the fuck out, and if I ever catch you stealing again, I’ll haul your ass before the Pres, and you won’t like what happens. I can guaran-fucking-tee it.”
