What Might Kill Us by M.N. Forgy is NOW LIVE!
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Being the king of The Devil’s Dust and surrounded by easy women was his everyday… until having his heart broke rooted him to the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
Heartbroken, and drowning in lost memories he’s unsure of the direction of his life, when the answer – consisting of a terrified Mexican girl- nearly knocks him off his feet.
Determined to get his act together and rectify his club, he rides to Texas for answers, only to be confronted with the emotional ghosts he isn’t ready to deal with.
He sees Anahi, and he wants her.
But she may come with more baggage than Bull is ready for.
Anahi used to be prim and proper. She used to wear dresses and keep up appearances to impress people she didn’t know. I guess you could say she was a fucking lady.
But that was when she lived in Mexico with her parents.
Before her uncle turned on her.
Before, the only man she ever loved, her step-brother, betrayed her.
Before she was forced to be a drug mule for the Cartel.
Evening gowns a lost memory, expensive heels traded for boots, and a nine millimeter in her hand instead of a limited edition purse. Anahi sets aside everything she’s ever known including the fairytale stories her mother told her about America.
She’s angry, determined, and looking for a way out.
“The last time I let someone close to me… it didn’t go well.”
He pecks a kiss on my erect nipple that was in his mouth seconds before.
“Anahi, Alvaro is a boy pretending to be a man, and I’m about to show you the difference between pretending and actually being,” he states matter of fact, his tone smug.
I smirk. “You’re so arrogant.”
He lifts his chin, his eyes finding mine. “Only one way to find out, darlin’,” he states wolfishly. “I’m going to fuck you to the point you’ll have to take your time sitting down afterwards, baby.”
With that, the head of his length presses into me. My back arches off the bed, an audible gasp leaving my lips. Bull pushes in another couple inches, filling me to the point I swear I can’t take anymore. The sensation of burning and bliss battling with one another I can’t help but fidget beneath him. I don’t know whether to cry or moan.
He slips in more, filling me to the brink and a cry rips up my throat. Bull presses his lips against mine, silencing my pain.
Fucking me like he hates me, but kissing me like he cares.
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