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    Owned: An MC Romance: Blood Warriors MC, #1
    Owned: An MC Romance: Blood Warriors MC, #1
    Owned: An MC Romance: Blood Warriors MC, #1
    Ebook125 pages1 hour

    Owned: An MC Romance: Blood Warriors MC, #1

    By Naomi West

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    About this ebook

    Owned is book 1 of the Blood Warriors MC trilogy. Books 2 and 3, Owned by the Biker and Owned by the Outlaw are available everywhere now!

    I BOUGHT HER SO SHE COULD GIVE ME A CHILD.

    I need a son to fulfill my father's last wishes.
    The pretty bartender is perfect for the job: hot, lonely, and desperate.
    Now, I own all of her – from her lips to her womb.
    And she's going to have my baby.

    It sure as hell wasn't how I saw my life going.
    I'm a biker, after all, not some loser dad with a white picket fence and 2.3 annoying children.
    I drink, I fight, I screw.
    I definitely don't babysit.

    But even for a rebel like myself, some things simply must be done.
    My father begged me on his deathbed to give him a grandchild.
    Plus, he made it a requirement of my inheritance.

    Fine. As you wish, Pops.
    One baby, coming up.

    But the women in my life are hardly fit for conversation, much less reproducing.
    I need someone a little different.

    That's where Star came in.

    She's as tough as they come, but more importantly, she's desperate for some money.
    I can give her that.

    In exchange, I want all of her.
    I want to see that sexy little grin.
    To touch that tight little body.
    And to give her a night that she will never forget – at least, not for nine months afterwards.

    I'll do whatever I want with this vixen.
    After all, I own her now.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMBK Hanson Inc.
    Release dateAug 8, 2018
    ISBN9781386526933
    Owned: An MC Romance: Blood Warriors MC, #1
    Author

    Naomi West

    Motorcycle club romance that will blow you away... Naomi West is a best-selling author of motorcycle romance novels that will get your heart pumping and your panties melting. Sign up for her mailing list to receive new release alerts, free giveaways, and much more! Follow this link to join:  http://bit.ly/NaomiWestMailingList

    Read more from Naomi West

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      Book preview

      Owned - Naomi West

      OWNED: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Blood Warriors MC Book 1)

      By Naomi West

      I BOUGHT HER SO SHE COULD GIVE ME A CHILD.

      I NEED A SON TO FULFILL my father’s last wishes.

      The pretty bartender is perfect for the job: hot, lonely, and desperate.

      Now, I own all of her – from her lips to her womb.

      And she’s going to have my baby.

      It sure as hell wasn’t how I saw my life going.

      I’m a biker, after all, not some loser dad with a white picket fence and 2.3 annoying children.

      I drink, I fight, I screw.

      I definitely don’t babysit.

      But even for a rebel like myself, some things simply must be done.

      My father begged me on his deathbed to give him a grandchild.

      Plus, he made it a requirement of my inheritance.

      Fine. As you wish, Pops.

      One baby, coming up.

      But the women in my life are hardly fit for conversation, much less reproducing.

      I need someone a little different.

      That’s where Star came in.

      She’s as tough as they come, but more importantly, she’s desperate for some money.

      I can give her that.

      In exchange, I want all of her.

      I want to see that sexy little grin.

      To touch that tight little body.

      And to give her a night that she will never forget – at least, not for nine months afterwards.

      I’ll do whatever I want with this vixen.

      After all, I own her now.

      Chapter One

      Star

      There it was, right in front of Star Bentley: The Twisted Raven. The worst biker bar in the tri-county area.

      She peered at it through the windshield of her little hatchback, a wreck of car which had just barely been able to limp to the parking lot under its own power. The neon sign had just flicked OPEN, and the bar was still deserted. Knowing this place, though, it would start filling up soon. She took a deep breath and wondered if she really was desperate enough to do this, to start cocktail waitressing at such a scuzzy, bottom-feeder dive.

      The Twisted Raven was notorious throughout the tri-county area. Barroom brawls, burly bikers rolling and fighting in the gravel parking lot, and underage kids buying alcohol. There were probably even worse things going on there, too, if the rumors were to be believed. It was a marvel the place was still open. Star figured it would have been out of business years ago, if it had been inside city limits. The town council would have seen to it. But, since it was out here on the highway, surrounded only by farmland and asphalt, it was a county problem.

      Star took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes at the rundown, wood-frame establishment. It's either this, she said out loud, in a confident voice to the empty car, or stripping. And, what do you think that kind of place would be like? You've got this, girl. You've got this.

      She grabbed her resume folder and purse from the passenger seat and got out of the car. Gravel and dirt crunched under her stylish, but professional, flats as she made her way through the empty lot to the front door.

      In her mind, she ran through all the poor decisions made by others that had brought her, a beautiful, upstanding woman who should be married to some businessman and on the rotary committee, to a place like this.

      Her father getting arrested for fraud. He was three states over now, doing ten-to-twenty.

      Her mother getting hooked on drugs, opiates, and running out-of-state to be with Star's new stepfather.

      The house? Gone. The cars? Gone. Star's future? Gone, gone, gone. Gone.

      She should have been holding her breath like this before she stepped into a meeting of the League of Women Voters. Definitely not the Old Crow.

      This was it. The bottom of the barrel. But what had her dad always said? Do what you have to do, not what you want to do. Be happiest when they're the same thing, but still be happy when they're not.

      Of course, what good was advice from some guy who ended up in prison?

      She paused at the entryway, took a deep breath, and pulled open the big, steel door.

      The stench of stale beer and staler smoke assaulted her nose. The lights were low, and there was only one window to allow in the sun. Behind the bar stood a big biker of a man with a Grizzly Aarons beard, his face grim under the red, blue, and green neon lights of the beer signs. He cleaned and polished a beer glass.

      Star paused just inside the door and took a deep breath, something she immediately regretted as the foul smell hit her. She clutched her resume and its folder to her chest as she fought back an unexpected gag.

      The bartender wasn't any more appealing than the smell, with his heavy features, long curly hair, and unkempt beard. His eyes shifted to Star, looked her up and down. He didn't show any sign of whether or not he approved.

      She felt the pit of her stomach drop. She shouldn't have come here. She shouldn't have come to this shitty bar, on this shitty highway, with its scary, shitty bartender. She almost turned around and headed right back out to her car. But, then she reminded herself of what waited out there for her. Bills, destitution, and no help from anyone. Back there was nothing except her friend Patricia's shoulder to cry on.

      You okay, hun? the bartender grated as she started to step forward into the dark, smelly bar.

      Me? she squeaked after his gravelly voice brought her back to the moment.

      He gave her a perplexed look, as if to say, Yeah, you, stupid. Who else is there?

      This was it. One. Last. Chance.

      She took another breath. This time, she didn't gag, which was a small wonder on its own. She put one foot in front of the other and crossed over to the bar, her resume clutched so tightly in her hand that she had begun to bend it. She held it out in front of her like a crucifix warding off vampires.

      I was wondering if you - well, if your bar that is - is hiring? she rambled, her nerves clamoring for control of her vocal chords. She gave a weak smile. I brought my resume.

      The man came over and took hold of the resume folder, prying it from her still-gripping hand. He opened it up, his eyes flickering from the sheet to her face, and back again.

      Listen, Miss - he said, genuine regret in his voice, as his eyes darted back to the cover sheet, Bentley. You seem real qualified and all, and a real great gal, but . . .

      . . . but?

      He closed the folder and handed it back to her. Well, we're all fulled up here. I ain't got another shift to spare.

      She hung her head and groaned. That was it. Next stop: Juicy Lucy’s. She didn't want to do it. But, if she couldn't make money with her clothes on, she'd just have to make it with them off. She checked the time behind the bar. She still had a couple more hours before the strip-club opened.

      Sorry again, the bartender said, trying to make his voice sound as consoling as a two-hundred-fifty pound biker could. You wanna drink or something?

      She didn't normally drink, but she'd be damned if a little liquid courage didn't sound perfect just then. She pulled out one of the rickety bar stools and climbed onto it. God yes. Jager and a beer, please. Any beer.

      Coming right up, he said as he drew a beer for her and poured two shots of Jager. He

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