Triple M 3 - Needing Me, Wanting You.pdf

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Needing Me,
Wanting You
C.M. Stunich
Needing Me, Wanting you
Copyright © C.M. Stunich 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the
case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 1863 Pioneer Pkwy. E Ste. 203, Springfield, OR 97477-3907.
www.sarianroyal.com
ISBN-10: 193862372X (eBook)
ISBN-13: 978-1-938623-72-1 (eBook)
"Triple M" Name Used With Permission From Melissa, Mireya, and Megan of "Triple M Bookclub"
Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is
coincidental and is not intended by the author.
this book is dedicated to the following people in no particular order. because they're incredible.
because they deserve it. and mostly just because I felt like it. ;)
to Stella and Lee from Boston
to Rachael Rushing Pennington
to Amy Jerome
to Susan Harris Avila
to Tracie Blankenship
and of course, to all the wonderful bloggers, readers, and friends I've met along the way. just
because your name isn't on this list, doesn't mean I don't heart you. much love
Tease
Chapter 1
I like my job because it's easy. The most difficult part of my day consists of choosing what color
eyeshadow to wear, which corset makes me look the curviest. I'm not saying that what I do is going to
change the world, but it's all I know, so I roll with it. I think my dad was disappointed in me though. I
don't know why, but I always got that feeling when his eyes meet mine from across the room.
Like
father, like daughter, Dad,
I think as I move across the carpet in my heels. Unfortunately, he's not
around to ask. Not that he would've admitted it anyway. My dad and I had a strange relationship.
“Emilie,” my brother says, greeting me with a frown and a chaste kiss. Nobody calls me that
anymore, but him. Even though I can tell some serious business is brewing, I give him a smile.
“It's good to see you, bro,” I say, and I get the teensiest, tiniest smile back. It only lasts so long
though before it's wiped away with responsibility and worry. My brother never stops worrying. It's
like a hobby for him. I shrug my jacket up my shoulders and move to the side, giving the Sergeant At
Arms of our club, room to face the green-eyed devil everybody calls Tax, but who I still call Dare-
Bear. Only when he's not listening, of course.
The two men stand facing each other for a moment before reaching out and shaking hands, hard and
gruff. Formal. My brother is really into formalities. And he enforces them. I guess if you can keep a
group of seventy-seven wild men in line with a single word, you have the right to. Since the moment
our father died, Darren Jr. has been whooping ass and taking names, fighting his way to the top, doing
everything in his power to preserve my father's legacies. So whether I agree with the way we do
things in Seventy-Seven Brothers or not, I obey.
I look down at the floor beneath my feet, the dark carpeting of the clubhouse framing my black heels
in burgundy with cream colored diamonds. I don't have any business here, but I had to see my brother.
He's the one that raised me anyhow, so I owe him the courtesy. Besides, it's expected of me. I'm the
only woman here who isn't an old lady. I ride with the club out of respect to who my father was, and
who my brother is. To everyone else, I'm just a bitch in the garage.
It might bother some ladies, but it doesn't bother me. Despite what you might think, this isn't a blood
in, blood out sort of a scenario. I'm free to walk away at any time. I just choose not to. Like I said, my
job is easy, and I don't know anything else. The club is my life.
“Go get yourself something to eat, Tease,” Darren tells me, nodding his chin and dismissing me,
just like that. I smile again and wink at him, sliding past Oren and his vicious grin. He is absolutely
relentless, even in front of my brother. Out of the entire group, that man is by far my least favorite.
“I'll come see you later.”
“Is that a promise?” I ask, but Darren's green eyes have already switched off, taken him out of this
world and into himself. It means he's thinking about club business and not about me. It used to bother
me, but it doesn't anymore. It's amazing how accustomed you can get to something you used to despise.

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