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  Biker’s Librarian

  Shyla Colt

  Lords of Mayhem, Book 1

  Good girl. Bookworm. Wallflower. Juliette’s been called all of them, and never protested. But every now and then she wants to be daring and adventurous and sexy. A night out with the girls presents just the opportunity Juliette’s been looking for.

  Undeniably sexy, Shooter hits all of Juliette’s hot buttons—and as a member of a local biker gang, rings more than a few of her warning bells.

  One scorching-hot night of sex has Juliette coming back for more. Shooter is everything she’s ever daydreamed about. Before she realizes it, Juliette’s in deep. Having hot, exciting sex is one thing, but falling in love is something else entirely and an experience Juliette isn’t sure she wants. But Shooter isn’t the only dangerous man in Juliette’s life. As the past comes rushing back to haunt her and the future starts to turn dark, Juliette has to choose—fall back into old habits or trust her heart and the man who holds it.

  A Romantica® moderne erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Biker’s Librarian

  Shyla Colt

  Dedication

  First I want to thank the man upstairs for all the amazing things he’s doing in my life. Colts, you guys are incredible. Your support and response to my stories keeps me striving to improve my skills and come up with more unique tales. To my girl M who rode this ride with me. Thank you for the late nights, numerous re-reads and calm-down sessions. For the Marine, I love you baby, thank you for your limitless support and forcing me to occasionally get out into the sunshine. To my little ladies, may you find your passion in life and pursue it with zest. Thank you for sharing with me the characters who live in my head and demand to have their stories told.

  Chapter One

  “Girls, I think we’ve bored the librarian,” Hilary said as the others chuckled. The murals on the distressed beige walls that represented the wine fields in Tuscany, and the brown barrels underneath the bar mocked Juliette. Instead of being some place exotic beautiful and new, they were here.

  “No, that’s not it at all, “Juliette said, swirling the Merlot featured on the menu. She watched the legs trail down as she carefully considered her next words. “I love that we get together and relax here every week. I mean clearly we all work too much. I’ve been pulling doubles like they’re going out of style since Charlene’s been out after surgery. Hil, you’re practically a hermit since banging out book after book in your townhouse, Evonne is addicted to crunching numbers and Joey…well you have the most fun job, so you don’ t get included.”

  “Hey, graphic arts is hard work. Bringing someone else’s vision to life can be maddening,” Joey said. She blew a stray piece of hair away from her eyes as she vented her frustration.

  “We worked hard to get here. You can’t blame us for being afraid to slack off,” Evonne said.

  “I know, girl.” Juliette’s chest swelled with pride. Best friends since the first grade they’d weathered some rocky times together. Tall, curvy and on the darker spectrum of brown, they’d all taken lumps in high school and beyond. Moving past the pettiness to graduate early and dominate in their careers was a big deal. “I’m not discrediting our achievements. I just feel like we should get out there and mix things up.”

  “Ms. Plan Every Detail To The Last Nanosecond wants to mix things up?” Evonne arched a pencil-thin eyebrow.

  “Look, I know I’ve been a bit sheltered since the whole mess with Peter. I dealt with it, healed, and now I feel the need to remind myself I’m alive. Is that so surprising?”

  “Yes,” the voices chimed in harmony.

  “Come on, Juliette. Even before him, you were so predictable we could practically tell time by you,“ Joey said.

  Juliette glanced away, unable to argue with her. She’d never been one to make waves or shake things up. It was why she’d ended up in her past relationship. The meek got overrun and went unheard. Sex-starved, lonely and overworked, she occasionally felt eighty nowadays. “See, that’s the problem.” Juliette set her wineglass on the table and leaned forward. “We’re stuck in a rut. Work, work and more work. When’s the last time we went out and blew off steam?”

  Joey lifted her glass. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

  “I don’t know.” Juliette wrinkled her nose and frowned, trying to capture the elusive words to fully describe her rapidly shifting emotions. “We’re too young to behave so…”

  “Matronly?” Joey asked, voice wry.

  “Yes.” Juliette pointed across the table at her. “We did everything we were supposed to do, earlier than most. Graduated and started our careers. Now that we’ve gained a little bit of success and recognition, maybe we should take some time to have fun.” An answering flicker of understanding rose in the girls’ expressions.

  “We hear what you’re saying, Jul. I think we’re all just wondering what you want to do about it.” Evonne raised her hands as she shrugged.

  “Start a club?” Joey asked sarcastically?

  “Maybe that’s a step in the right direction,” Hil said, the excitement in her voice contagious. Butterflies formed in Juliette’s belly and she leaned in closer to hear her friend’s thoughts. Always the wild child, Hil kept them from being a total snooze-fest. The bending of rules usually occurred at her insistence.

  “A club, Hil? I think we belong to enough of those. Book club, Alumni club—and don’t forget the fascinating Tupperware club we were roped into.” Evonne rolled her eyes.

  “I didn’t mean it literally. Let’s remind ourselves how far we’ve come. The girls who used to practically wet their pants at the thought of speaking in front of the class have come into their own, and now it’s time to celebrate.” Hil paused meeting each gaze one by one.

  Excitement lifted Juliette out of the doldrums like a jet-propelled rocket pack. Hil’s ringlets of black hair all but vibrated with energy. Her tresses always responded to her emotions. Perfectly spiraled when happy, or frizzy when agitated or upset, they acted like a mood ring.

  “I like the sound of that.” Juliette took a sip of her wine.

  “How do you propose we start this endeavor?” Evonne asked.

  “Oh you’re bringing Spock around. We might be on to something.” Joey grinned.

  “Be fearless,” Juliette offered.

  “Within reason,” Evonne added.

  “Please ourselves for once,” Joey whispered. A pained expression dulled the glee visible in her eyes.

  “Take risks and get some.” Hil wagged her eyebrows as they all choked.

  Juliette felt a twinge of agreement in her neglected lady parts. A handsome man with no expectations and a nice body sounded tempting.

  “Hey, who said I wasn’t getting any?” Joey protested.

  “Please, girl.” Hil rolled her eyes. “We’ve all hit a dry patch. Too much work and no play has made us all very dull women. Don’t act like you’ve been burning up the sheets and keeping it a secret. ” She twisted her lips and tapped them with her finger. “Or have you?”

  Joey scowled.

  “Why don’t we start today?” Juliette asked, killing the snit fit before it started. Ready to get the ball rolling, she all but bounced in her seat. Today, during the shift change with her coworker Emily, the truth had rocked her like an unexpected hurricane. Outside of work, many parts of her life left much to be desired.

  “Well, fearless leader, I’ll leave that up to you.” Hil winked.

  “Let’s go out tonight.” Murmurs of agreement circled the table.

  “Where to?” Joey shrugged, lifting her hands.

  “What’s the name of that new club? Pure?” Juliette wrinkled her brow, trying to recall the radio ad she’d heard in the car.

  “Yes,
and women get in free until ten o’clock. Good call.” Joey’s eyes widened. Her animated expression fueled the enthusiasm building at the table.

  “It’s five now. We have just enough time to get to the mall, makeup counter, and home to transform before we hit Pure.” Evonne used her finger to check off each task on an imaginary clipboard.

  * * * * *

  Five hours later she was rethinking her impromptu proposal. Shifting her weight on strappy, heeled sandals, Juliette batted away the urge to yank down the black miniskirt. The low-backed crimson tank top hugged her breasts, presenting them for the world to see in a sexy, nerve-racking display. She glanced at the other woman who stood beside her, effortlessly exuding confidence. Returning her gaze to herself she questioned her choice to show so much thigh.

  “Don’t chicken out on us now, fire starter. This is your doing,” Hil whispered.

  Glancing up at her friend’s all-knowing, almond-shaped brown eyes, Juliette knew she’d been busted. “I feel so out of place.”

  “That’s all in here.” Hil tapped her temple. “Outside you’re slamming, confident, and ready to be worshipped.”

  “Hil, where do you come up with this stuff?” Snickering, Juliette was unable to resist the incredible charisma Hil had in spades.

  “Hello—writer.” Hil issued an exaggerated eye roll and snorted.

  “Why aren’t you the president again?” Juliette tilted her head to the side.

  “Because it was your idea. I sort of helped it along. Come on, Jul. We all know you’re the planner. Leave it to me and we’d end up in a rundown bar in the middle of nowhere with a flat tire. Murphy’s Law follows me around, pouncing when I least expect. I think that’s why I write such good romantic suspense. I live it daily…well minus the romance.” She shrugged.

  For anyone else that would be an embellishment, but Jul had seen the insanity that existed in Hilary’s life. Flat tires on the way to graduation, punch spilled on her white prom dress, broken heels the day of a big interview. Pick an outrageous series of events, and it’d probably happened to Hil.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that.” Juliette took a deep breath and released it through her mouth. I’m behaving like a teenager. Still, the fear of ridicule and rejection were very real. Funny how you thought you were over something until it came rushing back full force.

  Evonne and Joey turned and formed a semicircle around Juliette.

  “What’s going on, Jul?” Joey asked.

  “My nerves are flaring up.” Juliette nibbled the inside of her mouth and willed her anxiety away. Tightness developed in her chest and she breathed deep. Not now. She hadn’t had a panic attack in so long.

  “It’s not just you.” Evonne exhaled. “Social activities, large groups of people and I don’t get along too well.”

  “Hence why we call you Spock. You’re the only brown Vulcan I’ve ever met.” Joey nudged Evonne’s shoulder with her own.

  “Hey, if that means I’m the child of Zoe Saldana and Zachary Quinto, I’ll take it.” Evonne grinned and they all burst into laughter. The familiar razzing eased Juliette’s anxiety. I’m among friends and the past is behind me. Who I was and what happened then have no bearing on the woman I choose to be today.

  “Have I told you girls how much I love you today?” Juliette laughed, brushing her shoulder-length locks out of her face and tucking them behind her right ear.

  “Yes, but we always love to hear it. Flattery will get you everywhere, darling.” Hil said, rolling her Rs.

  The line moved ahead of them and they followed like a herd of cattle. A few more minutes and they were inside the club, sealing Juliette’s fate. Guess I’m past the point of no return.

  Pure had gone with a black-and-white theme. Black walls were offset by pieces of white furniture and smoky-glass-topped tables. They walked down the hallway. Pure was double the size of other clubs she’d been to. Juliette glanced up and took in the three tiers, each catering to different tastes.

  “This place is massive,” Joey said.

  “Right?” Juliette said.

  The hallway opened to a sleek black archway that led to a large seating area surrounding a white dance floor. Pop music came over the speakers, loosening the stiffness in her muscles. She swayed to the familiar rhythm, mouthing the words.

  “Let’s hit the bar first,” Hil said.

  Nodding, they followed her as she weaved a path through the crowded room. They squeezed into the middle section and waited patiently for one of the busy bar backs to make their way toward them. Juliette studied the people around her to pass the time. Her gaze reached the end of the bar and stopped.

  A broad-shouldered, tan Roman god looked up. Their gazes clashed. Chocolate-brown met a whiskey-brown she could easily drown in. Bottomless pits that beckoned her to solve the owner’s mysteries. The dark brown hair slicked back off his face highlighted a broad forehead and the faintest trace of hair adorned his chin and his delectable upper lip.

  Her sex quivered and grew moist. Hardened nipples strained against the silk of her tank top. The apex of her thighs heated. The air between them sizzled as he lowered his lids to half-mast and his strong jaw flexed. A long pink tongue snaked out to moisten his lips. Oh god, was the attraction mutual?

  His thick eyebrows drew together. A puzzled expression marred his facial perfection. He’s probably wondering why my crazy ass is staring at him. She wanted to look away but found it difficult.

  Her breaths shortened and her chest moved up and down rapidly. The muscles in her stomach clenched. The music faded and tunnel vision set in.

  “Jul, what do you want to drink?” Joey’s voice shattered the connection.

  She turned, grateful for the reprieve from the lasers penetrating deep into her soul, making her forget herself. The last time she’d felt a spark like that with a man it’d ended badly. Of course that man had been nothing like this one. Peter had been blond, suave and preppy. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to him. Sometimes the boy you want to take home to mom has a monster lurking inside him. It might be better to go with the one who lets it all hang out. The stranger’s razor-sharp beams peeled back her skin and freed the stifled woman she’d slapped imaginary swaths of duct tape on and shoved deep in the closet of her mind.

  “Water for me, I’m the D.D. tonight,” Juliette told the striking blond bartender with bright-blue eyes and a toothpaste-ad smile. After the ruggedly handsome face of the stranger, the bartender paled in comparison.

  “You got it, sweetheart.” The cocky tone made her want to gag. Not even if I was hammered, Ken.

  “Were you making goo-goo eyes at the biker? That’s bold…even for a reformed shy girl.” Joey’s eyes were full of admiration Juliette didn’t understand.

  “Biker? What are you talking about?” She shook her head.

  “Check him out, Jul. He’s wearing a cut.” Joey nodded toward the end of the bar.

  “Cut?” Clueless, she starred at Joey, who rolled her eyes.

  “A leather vest that identifies him as a member of a certain motorcycle club. Girl, you need to watch more primetime television. Sons of Anarchy is the shit.” The happiness on Joey’s round face garnered a giggle.

  “Keep talking so it won’t be obvious I’m scoping him out,” Juliette whispered. Joey nodded. Juliette leaned back slightly and used her peripheral vision to take in all the things she’d missed during their stare down.

  Long, powerful legs were encased in black leather pants and muscular arms were bare up to his biceps in what looked like a black t-shirt and the leather vest. Ink swirled up his arms.

  She narrowed her eyes. Damn. I’m too far away to discern details. Forcing her gaze away, she accepted the tumbler from Ken.

  It was best to forget the sexy biker. They might as well be from different worlds. Men like him had no interest in women like her, even if she had pretty packing on tonight. She admired his courage. It took a will of steel to go against the grain and live by your own code of ethics. But the same thing
that drew her to him frightened her. He wasn’t like any other man she’d known. The regular rules of dating and polite society wouldn’t apply. She could still feel the heat of his gaze upon her. It made her feel sexy. Her heart sped and the seed of curiosity began to grow. What was he doing here in the first place? Will he make a move? If he does, will I go along with it?

  Chapter Two

  “Hey, Shooter, you ready to leave?”

  Moose’s gruff voice stole his attention from the luscious brown-skinned woman whose gaze sent him up in flames. Pure wasn’t their typical scene. Tonight they’d been doing the Prez a favor by trailing his daughter.

  Katie was a perky blonde with a banging body, though Shooter never let the Prez know he thought so. Coddled by her father and trashed by her ex-old lady of a mother, Tricia, the poor girl was a wreck. On her twenty-first birthday, she’d hit the party scene at a dead run. Drinking like the alcohol would be taken off the shelf any day and getting involved with some less than reputable characters. Considering the Lords of Mayhem were no angels, the statement said a lot.

  “Katie cut out?” Shooter leaned against the bar.

  “Yeah, she left with Smokey’s old lady, said they were going back to her place.”

  Shooter smirked. Six foot three, Smokey was built like a linebacker and looked uptight as hell. Shooter had seen the man stare down the barrel of a .45 without batting an eye. Now a club was about to do him in?

  “Feeling uncomfortable, Moose?” He grinned.

  “Fuck, yeah. It’s not our kind of place, eh?” The Canadian expression earned a smile from Shooter. Even after all these years, Moose’s accent still amused Shooter.

  “True enough. But I’d like to hang around a while.”

  Moose narrowed his eyes and stroked his full beard. “You sniffing out some pussy?”

  “You really care?”

  “Eh, I just want to know if she’s got a friend.” Moose shrugged.