Page 1 of Romeo

Prologue

Romeo trackedher as she walked across the Blood Fury MC’s courtyard.

The young strawberry blonde with the big brown eyes.

The same as her mother.

The same as her younger sister.

She wore no one’s colors, despite being old enough to be an ol’ lady. From what he could tell, she had to be only a few years younger than him.

His best fucking guess? She was at least twenty-one now since she was drinking. Not that her doing so was a perfect indicator. Romeo doubted the Fury gave a shit about underage drinking.

He could be wrong—that happened sometimes—since he heard Trip, the Fury president, was pretty damn strict. Totally fucking opposite of him, the president of the Dark Knights.

But then, he was younger than either president of the Fury or the Dirty Angels. Add in the fact he also liked to party fucking hard and often, he wasn’t enough of a dick topolice anyone in his club—or even anyone connected to his club—unless he had no damn choice.

And anyway, he had his no-fucking-nonsense sergeant at arms to do that shit for him. No matter that Magnum no longer had youth on his side, he still fucking had it in him to pound someone into the ground or make someone shit their pants with one cocked eyebrow.

Romeo licked his lips as he thought about Magnum's hot-as-fuck, much younger wife.

That had him turning his wandering thoughts back to the woman heading toward the covered pavilion. Right now the popular gathering spot was too crowded for him to approach. He didn’t want anyone listening in on his “game.” He’d find a better time when she wasn’t surrounded by others who might fuck up his plans.

When he could speak to her in private. Turn on his charm.

Test the waters.

Because he planned on having her before this wedding weekend was over.

The fuck if he was leaving Manning Grove without finding a willing woman to warm his bed. It didn’t have to be the same woman each night. He wasn’t picky. His only requirement was soft thighs, big tits and an ass that wouldn’t quit.

A mouth that wouldn’t quit, either. And he didn’t mean when using it in conversation.

He was currently drawing a blank on her name because—between the three clubs, all their sweet butts, hang-arounds and others who had descended on the Blood Fury’s farm for the wedding between the Fury member named Easy and their president’s sister—there were way too many goddamn people to remember.

If he had to be honest, he really didn’t give a fuck what her name was. The second he kicked her out of his bed, he’d forget it anyway. What he wouldn’t forget was if her pussy was tight, how wet she got, or how skilled she was with those soft, plump lips.

A grin crossed his face as he closed his eyes and imagined her spread naked in the bed in his rented RV. The one parked in a field on the same farm where he stood.

Since the motels in town were booked solid due to the weekend-long wedding, he had no choice but to rent one. Unless he wanted to pitch a fucking tent.

And not one in his jeans.

Romeo did not sleep on the fucking ground. Ever.

Unless he was passed-out drunk.

Or someone happened to be lucky enough to knock his ass out.

If he was out cold—by either booze or a sucker punch—one of his brothers better move him somewhere more comfortable. One of the many perks of being voted in as prez.

Not even an hour later, when his eyes scanned the crowd and the courtyard, he spotted her again. Mostly because she was so damn hard to miss.

The problem was, he wasn’t the only one watching her.

He heard rumors about her stepfather—or whatever the fuck Shade was—watching over his ol’ lady’s hot daughters like a fucking hawk.

Magnum could be in-your-face deadly.

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