Making the Cut (Saving Dallas #2) Read Online Kim Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Biker, Dark, Erotic, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Saving Dallas Series by Kim Jones
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
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“You had them fucking follow me? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I did tell you that.”

“Oh really, when?”

“I told you that when I couldn’t watch you I had people employed by me to do it,” Luke said, his mood not faltering in the least.

“Luke! You fucking… Ugh! I swear I could kill you right now. Do you know how fucking weird this is? Then Maddie stood up and informed me that they all hated me and had been talking shit and you paid them to like me. Now, Brooklyn wants to take me for a ride on her hog, and you said I couldn’t go anywhere, but I’m fucking going. I don’t even know what a hog is, but it doesn’t matter. If I have to sit in this house right now, someone is gonna get hurt and it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me. I don’t care what you-“

“You can go with Brooklyn, babe. Go have a few drinks and calm down. Everything will be fine,” Luke said, interrupting my rant. Drinks? With Brooklyn? He told me I couldn’t leave. “Babe?”

“I thought you said I couldn’t leave unless it was important,” I said, wanting to pull my hair out because he was so unpredictable and I was anticipating a fight and my adrenaline was pumping and he just said I could go. Fuck me. Fuck a drink. I needed some of that shit that you see on intervention.

“This sounds pretty important, babe. Brooklyn will take care of you. There is not a man around stupid enough to fuck with her. I have good news,” Luke said, so excited about his good news that he didn’t seem to give much of a shit about mine.

“What’s your good news?” I asked, sounding bored. Of course, he wasn’t affected.

“We have a lead on War. Leaving, just as soon as we fuel up. It’s not much but more than we have had since all this shit went down.”

When Luke told me this, my thoughts of my drama went out the window and I was overcome with pure joy.

“Oh baby, that’s wonderful news!”

“Yeah, it is. I have to go, babe. I love you and I’ll get back with ya soon.”

“I love you too and give a big kiss to War from me!”

“Yeah, that shit ain’t gonna happen,” Luke said laughing. “Gotta go, babe.” He disconnected and I was all smiles as I prepared for my day on the “hog” with Brooklyn.

A “hog” is a Harley Davidson Motorcycle. Brooklyn’s Hog was a pink, three wheeled motorcycle known as a trike. Her husband, Ronnie, had custom built it himself. It was wonderful. I sat behind her as we barreled down the highway, heading south towards the beach. I had packed a pair of shorts and flip flops to bring with me, but chose to wear my motorcycle gear which consisted of jeans, boots and a black tank for the journey down there. Tom Petty’s lyrics of “Free Falling” seemed fitting as I left the world behind me for a while and enjoyed the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. We probably looked ridiculous, two women riding a pink trike down the highway, but I didn’t give a shit. I doubted anyone would be stupid enough to say anything to us.

It was after one when we pulled up to Hank’s, a little biker bar and grill on the beach. Brooklyn guided us under the covered area as surrounding bikers came up for a closer look. I climbed off the bike and shook my hair loose from my helmet. I noticed the appreciative looks that I received and couldn’t help but be a little smug. So what if I had a boyfriend? It was always nice to have your ego boosted.

“Take ya dirty eyes off my bitch, you little shit,” Brooklyn said to a guy who couldn’t have been older than twenty-one. He was rubbing his tongue across his lip and suggestively winking at me. If it wasn’t for the cut he wore, I never would have guessed that he was in a Motorcycle Club.

“These little punks these days have no respect for women. What do they think? That we are all whores or something?” Brooklyn announced loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear. A tall man with a braided beard and hair as long as Willie Nelson’s came out and took Brooklyn in his arms.

“Well, I’ll be damned. How in the hell are you, Brooklyn? Where’s Ronnie?” The man asked, his voice booming.

“He is on a run. I can’t flirt as much when he is around,” she said, smacking him playfully on the ass.

“Bullshit. Since when have you cared whether or not he was around?” the guy asked, pulling Brooklyn in for another hug. It was obvious that they were old friends.


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