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Teaser Tuesday: Roman

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Denise Alicea

This blog was created by Denise in September 2008 to blog about writing, book reviews, and technology. Slowly, but surely this blog expanded to what it has become now, a central for book reviews of all kinds interviews, contests, and of course promotional venue for authors, etc

 

(Iron Tzars MC)

Contemporary Romance, Suspense, Motorcycle Club, Age Gap

Date Published: February 10, 2023

 

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Winter — My life hasn’t been easy. For so long, my sister has been
the only one I could rely on. When we were teenagers our father sold us to
sexual predators who hurt us. We both have the scars to prove it. But we
were rescued, and I got revenge for both of us. That was over a decade ago.
I love the home we found with Black Reign, but now it’s time to move
on. To live outside the cocoon the club wrapped us in. Another club
who’s found a girl in a situation similar to the hell we left behind
all those years ago may be our answer. One man in particular calls to me on
a primitive level. His name is Roman. And I want him for my own.

Roman — I’m the enforcer for Iron Tzars. Violence is in the job
description. Never thought I’d find myself attracted to a woman as
fragile as Winter. She and her sister have been through a lot, but
there’s a core of iron in her. She’s stronger than she looks,
and the fight in her stirs the primitive Alpha male inside me. It’s
time I show her she’s more than the sum of her scars. She’s a
friggin’ goddess.

 

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland

 

Roman

I’d never been so glad to leave a place behind as I cheerfully rolled
out of Lake Worth, Florida. I did my part as enforcer for Iron Tzars, but
the entire time we’d been there I felt like we were outgunned. Black
Reign MC might not be a rival club, but they were by no means safe. As
evidenced by the way they took care of business with the fucking men
we’d caught taking orphans from the group home in the city.

Violence didn’t bother me. If a motherfucker deserved it, there was
no limit. My balls were twitching because of the casual ease with which that
bastard, Chief, had taken the skin off the men he tortured. Yeah, Brick had
participated, but our VP was emotionless on the best of days. Chief and El
Diablo were different. I wouldn’t say they enjoyed the act, but I
wouldn’t say they didn’t, either. It hadn’t bothered them
in the least.

But what really had me glad to see this place in my rear view were the twin
women who haunted the place like ghosts. Eerily lovely, they always seemed
to be where I was. Neither said anything, but they stared at me constantly.
More than one of Black Reign’s members gave me the stink-eye over it,
too though no one would tell me why. Only that I should stay away from them.
I didn’t even know the pair’s names, for fuck’s sake!
Didn’t want to know!

I drove the Bronco we’d taken as a chase vehicle down to Lake Worth.
Normally I’d ride my bike with the other brothers, but someone had to
drive the big thing back to Evansville. As Road Captain, the task would
normally fall to Clutch, but he’d had a family emergency and had
headed back early. After that, I’d drawn the short straw. My bike was
stowed in the trailer, and here I was. Behind the wheel of a fucking
cage.

Lost in thought, my eyes on the road as my brothers surrounded the cage in
front and behind, I reached over and switched on the radio. I had no desire
to dwell on another club. Not even one our former president — and my
long-time friend — now belonged to. I was an enforcer in Iron Tzars. Not
Sergeant at Arms. I didn’t need to find trouble, only punish it.
Besides, if Sting — our current president and son to the former president
— had decided Warlock had to be killed for his infractions against the
club, I would be responsible for carrying out the sentence. I didn’t
want to do that. It looked like El Diablo had forestalled anything in that
regard, though I had no idea why. It was rare for anyone to leave the Iron
Tzars. When they did, the situation was permanent. Warlock was only the
second man I knew of not to die when he left or was asked to leave. Oh,
well. Above my paygrade. I was just thankful I didn’t have to kill my
brother.

A tap on my shoulder had my head whipping around. When I saw that same
eerily lovely face I’d been trying not to think about right next to
mine, I was so startled I jerked the wheel. The girl squealed and
disappeared from my immediate vision.

“What the fuck?” The Bronco hit the rumble strips on the
shoulder. My tires must have squealed, because several of the riders in
front of us either glanced over their shoulder or turned their head slightly
to look in their mirrors. They moved to the center lane in case I was out of
control. When I slowed and pulled fully onto the shoulder, they
followed.

I got as far over as I could but didn’t turn on my flashers. Though
we weren’t hauling any contraband, I’d rather not enlist the
help of a good Samaritan or, God forbid, the state police.

Once stopped, I put the thing in park and turned around. “What the
everlasting, God forsaken fuck are you doing in my fuckin’
vehicle?” I growled at the girl but tried not to yell. I got the
feeling she was fragile and, though I was angry, I didn’t want to
scare her. As I spoke, the other one poked her head from behind the backseat
in the cargo area. “Shoulda guessed. You two ain’t ever far
apart.” There was a knock at my window, saving the girls from a
lecture.

Instead of rolling down the window, I opened the door and stepped out. The
two girls ducked back behind the seat, the first one having returned to what
had probably been their hiding place in my fucking Bronco.

“You good?” Brick peered inside the vehicle, looking for a
threat. His hand was on the gun at his hip, but he didn’t draw.

“Yeah. Just realized I had a couple of stowaways.”

Brick raised an eyebrow. Instead of explaining, I walked him around to the
back and opened the tail door for him to see for himself. They were hiding
behind cargo, but both of them poked their heads up when I opened the door
so I could see their eyes and the top of their heads over their hiding
place.

“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You two in
trouble?”

One of them shook her head. The other girl shrank back.

“You know you can’t stay with us. We’ll have to take you
back.”

“No.” The braver of the two shook her head. “We want to
stay with you.”

“You afraid to go back?” Brick crossed big arms over his brawny
chest. “They hurt you?”

Black Reign didn’t seem like the type of club to hurt women. They
were protective as all get out of any of the women under their care,
especially these two. The idea that any woman might be running from that
club didn’t sit well with me, but the thought that either of these
women had an issue with them made me want to drive back and beat the fuck
out of someone.

“No,” she said in a soft voice. “It was time to
leave.”

I looked at Brick. “We’re only an hour from home. We could let
Black Reign know once we get back to the clubhouse.”

“Let me check with Sting. He may know something we don’t. If
not, he’ll decide what to do.”

“Can we please stop at a gas station or something?” The braver
one raised her head farther as she spoke. “It’s why I bothered
you. We need a bathroom break.”

“You shoulda said something before now,” I groused.
“We’ve been on the fuckin’ road for twelve fuckin’
hours! Stopped twice! Why didn’t you get out then?”

“We were afraid we wouldn’t be quick enough, and we’d get
left behind.” Her voice was almost musical but soft. And it affected
me like a gentle stroke down my chest headed straight to my cock. I needed
to squash that feeling hard. This girl wasn’t up to taking me on, even
if she’d wanted to.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I can’t fuckin’ believe
this. Get your asses in the back seat and buckle up.” I thought
they’d get out the back, but both of them climbed over the back seat
and did as instructed.

“Jesus, Roman, could you sound any more like a fuckin’ old
man?”

“Shut the fuck up, Brick.” Then I muttered under my breath.
“Motherfucker.”

A couple miles down the road, Brick pulled the group over at a
Buc-ee’s and everyone in the club surrounded the Bronco as the women
got out. And they were women, not older girls like I’d first thought.
The shy one shrank behind her sister when the men crowded around them both.
We didn’t get into their personal space, but it was something that
would have probably freaked any woman out.

“Jesus, guys, back off ‘em!” Iris, Sting’s
ol’ lady, was going to be a great match for our president. “Are
you trying to frighten them to death?”

Sting chuckled, watching as his woman went to my stowaways. “Better
do what she says, boys. She’s a force of nature when she wants to
be.”

Naturally, we didn’t need Sting’s OK to back off. The girls
looked terrified. The braver one had a determined look on her face as she
lifted her chin. “We’re not fragile. There’re a lot of
you. And you’re all big.”

“Of course, you’re not fragile.” Iris took her hand and
reached for the other one. “Everyone, this is Winter. Her sister here
is Serelda.”

“You know them well, baby?” Sting stood close to his woman, but
not close enough to spook the other two.

“No. But I’m looking forward to getting to know
them.”

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