Rex, the first dangerously sexy MC romance in The Last Bachelor Duet from bestselling author Serena Akeroyd, is now live!
Rachel always thought I was wasting my life on the Sinners, but being Prez is all I’ve ever wanted to be.
When she tore us apart on her journey to become someone, I let her go. I made sacrifices for her, because I knew why she had to prove herself.
I just didn’t realize that’d involve freezing me out for years.
Now, she’s the best criminal attorney in the Tri-State Area, and I’m still Prez—only my world is falling apart.
The MC is under scrutiny, our dirty secrets are being laundered in the public eye, and some of my brothers could be facing jail time.
Only one woman can stop that from happening.
She’ll fight for my brothers, but will she fight for us?
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Releasing April 14th
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How the hell did I answer that?
Inside, words churned around in my head, but she wasn’t my girl anymore.
Even if she’d always be that to me, now, she was the club’s lawyer.
She was Rachel Laker.
DAs feared her, judges dreaded her appearing before their benches, and my ragtag bunch of outlaws actually fucking listened to her.
The reminder had me settling on what we did best: business.
Her fingers stopped their stroking at our code word.
Where she knew not to ask for more information less it mess with her ability to defend me in court.
I wanted her to be my Rach. To help me through this fuckfest, but we’d gone past that years ago.
So many fucking years ago.
The thought had me pulling away from her touch and shoving the chair back to give me some distance.
The ache for her hadn’t gone anywhere. It never had. But I wasn’t the one who’d broken us. I wasn’t the one who’d pushed us apart.
So I sucked in a breath, logged my lungs down with air, then strode over to the fridge.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I’d be moving out and returning to the clubhouse over the next week, but I didn’t.
Instead, I reached into the refrigerator and snagged a box of takeout and started to eat cold General Tso’s chicken.
It tasted like shit.
I didn’t look up at her. “Yeah?” I snatched another sticky piece of chicken with my fingers then chowed it down.
“Look at me.”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A valid one. What do you want me to look at? The sleep shorts that show your ass off or the way that camisole clings to your tits?”
They were things I’d never have said at any other time.
But this wasn’t any other time.
This was the night my dad had asked me to assist his suicide.
My throat closed even as I registered the hissed intake of her breath.
“It doesn’t…” Her words waned. “I didn’t come down here to tease you.”
“You breathe and you tease me, Rachel.” I finally cast her a glance. “Ain’t you figured that out yet, babe?”
Her nostrils flared, but there was no glee or smug satisfaction in her eyes. Just like I knew there wouldn’t be. My girl was broken, had been for nearly two decades.
“When you look at me like that, you remind me of the first time I went into the basement and found you down there.”
Her shoulders straightened. “What?”
Leaning back against the counter, I stuck my sticky finger into my mouth and cleaned some of the goo off it before I said, “You looked at me like I was going to attack you.”
“I didn’t,” she scoffed.
“You did. I knew then someone had touched you.”
I settled my gaze on hers, let her feel the weight of it. Let her feel the command.
I might not have been her Prez, but I was her King.
She knew what that look meant because her breath hitched. “Things had happened that I shouldn’t have seen or experienced,” she reasoned woodenly. “But no one had touched me.”
“That supposed to make it better?”
If I could have killed her mom again, I would have.
“No,” she said softly. “It isn’t.”
“Good, because it didn’t work.” I turned away from her and retreated into the fridge once more. Snagging a bottle of beer, settling on that instead of the JD I wished I could savor intravenously, I stated, “Not sure you came down here to reminisce about the bad times.”
She flinched. “They weren’t all bad.”
My lips quirked up in a half smile. “Good to know.”
“I wanted to make some tea. But… is it Bear?”
I’m a romance bookaholic and I won’t touch a book unless I know there’s a happy ending. This addiction is what made me craft stories that suit my voracious need for raunchy romance. I love twists and unexpected turns, and my novels all contain sexy guys, dark humor, and hot AF love scenes.
I write MF, Menage, and Reverse Harem (also known as Why Choose romance,) in both contemporary and paranormal. Some of my stories are darker than others, but I can promise you one thing, you will always get the happy ending your heart needs!
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