BOOK TITLE: ALWAYS
SERIES: Wesson Rebel M.C., Book One
BOOK GENRE: Motorcycle Club Romance
AUTHOR NAME: Shyla Colt
PUBLISHER: Hot Ink Press
PUBLICATION DATE: August 29th, 2014
AVAILABLE FORMATS: eBook
I never understood the phrase there’s a thin line between love and hate, until Dallas Wesson and I, became us. The beautiful green-eyed biker with the broken soul tantalizes me with glimpses of the man behind the vest. He‘s gravity. I have no choice but to return to him, regardless of what it costs me. Our story is messy, unconventional, uninhibited, and insane. Still, it’s real, and until now it’s always been more than enough. I’m broken, bleeding out, and completely wrecked. I walk away. Yet, he refuses to let me go. Because no matter how much I resist him we both know what lies between us is for always.
Shyla Colt is a quirky genre hopping rule breaker looking to diversify romance and take readers on countless adventures. You never know where you'll end up or who you'll meet in one her books If you'd like to learn more or just drop a line, please check her out at www.shylacolt.com.
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I loved Dallas Wesson my entire life in some form. My earliest memories are of me toddling around after him at family picnics, and the old ladies homes. They were our surrogate mothers and babysitters when our fathers left for those long rides. I think I cried when he started school and left me behind. So I suppose, it was no surprise when that love took on a mature tone. I never saw anyone else. What chance did a high school boy have when I grew up with a green-eyed Greek god who protected me from everything? None.
When I hit womanhood at thirteen, and the estrogen began to flow liked popped champagne, I began to see him in a whole new light. Watching the endless parade of women he ran through like socks hurt. Each perfectly shaped bombshell he flaunted cut like a tiny slice to my heart accompanied by a knock to my self-esteem. It’s fucked up what your mind can do when you’re a pre-teen with a case of unrequited love like whoa. I was desperate to grow up fast. If I’d fully understood the things being Dall’s woman entailed, I might’ve pumped the brakes. Not that it would’ve mattered in the end. Fate has a way of bringing us together no matter what bullshit life tossed our way. Each crisis averted and overcame bound us tighter, until eventually, I understood for me the answer would be Dallas Wesson, always.
Love is a funny thing. It doesn’t guarantee happily-ever-after, or an easy way to go. Soulmate means even when you should hate someone, you can’t give up on them. It makes you stupid, and more giving than you could ever imagine feeling. It’s the spell that falls over you and makes you do things you swore you were above. I never understood the phrase there's a thin line between love and hate, until Dallas Wesson, and I became us.
I glance up from the books scattered across the table in the living room and smile wistfully. Danny has his arms around Rowan’s waist. Her flaming red hair blends with his dark brown as he whispers in her ear. I force my eyes back down to my work, and stifle the jealousy that threatens to eat me from the inside out. Danny and Rowan have an amazing relationship. They were always close, but when they hit fifteen things shifted. I’m happy for them. They’re two of my closest, okay two of my only friends. Growing up in Wesson M.C. your social circle is miniscule. We don’t take kindly to outsiders for good reason. We live by a different code. Normal people can’t understand the things we do, or the logic we apply to our colorful situations. Not to mention, you can’t protect someone not in the life from blowback when shit goes down. Rivals don’t care who people are, only that you care about them.
We’re in my house today. With just me and my dad, Reaper, in the three-bedroom two-bath house, there’s a lot more room than the others smaller dwellings. Plus as club president, Danny and Dall’s Dad has women in and out all the time. The front door opens. Dad’s home early. A wide grin spreads across my lips, and I know I must look like an imbecile. I peer across the open layout. The broad-shouldered Adonis with a strong jaw and beautiful masculine features in the doorway is not who I expected.
My happiness deflates. Dalls’ presence twists my guts up into tangled balls. I stare at the calculus in front of me wishing I could go invisible. This is why I wanted to go away to college in the first place.
“There she is,” Dallas rumbles. Like the bike he rides, his voice snarly seductive tone can’t be mistaken for anyone else’s. Chill bumps breakout over my back. My breasts grow heavy. Heat spreads across my cheeks and travels down my neck. Once more, I thank God for my mocha-colored skin. I managed to give him a weak smile. Our relationship has been strained badly for the past six months. Confusion muddies his vibrant green eyes. Guilt eats at my stomach like a hungry T-Rex. His off and on again, whatever she is gets the picture. The strawberry blonde haired bitch, never fails to rub their relationship, or my presumed lack of experience in my face.
“Yeap, here I am, buried in math.” The equations on the paper might as well be scrambled, because I do not understand a damn thing.
“It’s your fault for being so fucking smart,” Dallas says, grinning as he walks over and tugs at my pony tail.
The brotherly gesture sends my heart into my stomach, like an elevator on its way to the bottom floor. I’ll never be more than his pseudo little sister. All I want to do is retreat to my room, and lick my wounds. Unfortunately, it’d be too obvious.
“That’s right, I forgot you like them dumb.” I say, delivering a tiny barb to assuage my own pain.
Dallas narrows his eyes. “Who the fuck told you that?”
“No one had to. She has eyes, same as the rest of us” Rowan says. I mentally thank her for jumping in and saving me from making a total ass of myself.
“Don’t start with the busting my balls. I came over to talk to the birthday girl about what she wants. Don’t be crabby, Co.” He pulls out the chair beside me, and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his body. I bite my lip to keep my purr of contentment inside. My body relaxes, and he places a sweet kiss on my cheek. “There’s my baby girl.” He leans back and pins me with his sparkling green eyes. I’m ensnared against my will, unable to do anything more but hold the intense gaze. Our connection hums to life. “What do you want to do for your twenty-first, sweetheart?”
You. I will him to understand with my eyes. “I don’t know,” I whisper feeling nervous now that he’s focused on me.
“You always know what you want, Cora. It’s in your blood. You can tell me, Coey.” The nickname melts me from the inside out like chocolate lava cake.
“I don’t want anyone to make a big deal over it.”
“What?” Rowan asks.
“Come on, you know she doesn’t like being in the spotlight, Irish.” Dallas sneers.
“Are you telling me you know my best friend better than me?” Rowan places her hands on her hips. Her lips form a straight line. I start imagining the walls being painted red.
“What? You think you’re the only one who cares about baby girl, or knows her inside and out?”Dallas’s voice drops an octave. His jaw twitches, and his body tenses. “You’d be wrong.”
“I want to go to the boardwalk,” I blurt the words out, capturing his attention. “Like we used to, just you and me.” My heart bounces of my ribs so hard I swear one is going to break. What the hell was I thinking?
His eyes soften. He tucks a few strands of hair behind my ear. “You sure that’s what you want?”
“Yeap, if we disappear early in the morning no one will be able to find me and embarrass me half to death.” The excuse sounds lame, even to my own ears, but it’s the best I have. So, I’m sticking to it. “Spread the word. I want a small gathering at the club Friday, members of this chapter only. That’s it. I don’t want this to turn into a gigantic clusterfuck.”
Dallas chuckles. “Whatever you want you get.” If only that were the truth. He leans in and caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “It’s hard to believe you’re turning twenty-one, tomorrow baby girl. It seems like just yesterday you were rocking pigtails.” The words are a slap to the face. Why does he keep bringing up the past? Three years isn’t that vast of a difference.
“We all grow up sometime, Dall.”
“Yeah, we do.” His eyes hold a strange expression I can’t quite place. It disappears, replaced by his trademark shit eating grin. When have I ever been able to resist this man?
Never. This is why the next day I find myself skipping class and climbing onto the back of his bike a little after nine in the morning.
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