Good Girl for the Bikers – Screaming Eagles MC Read Online Stephanie Brother

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Erotic, MC Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)

When three outlaw bikers call me their good girl, it makes me want to do bad, bad things.

From the outside, our family was perfect. My father, a strong, god-fearing widower who gracefully married a single mother with a troubled son, and me, his dutiful and obedient daughter. But behind closed doors, he ruled with an iron fist. Father’s word was law, and I did exactly what I was told because it kept me safe and it was all I knew.
My stepbrother Crash never learned that lesson. He was born too wild to keep his head down or his mouth shut, and I loved him for it desperately. Right up until we shared one hot, forbidden kiss—my very first—and father saw it.
It was the last time I saw Crash. He ran and never looked back, at least not until now. Rolling into town on his motorcycle with a Screaming Eagles MC patch on his back and flanked by his brothers-in-arms, Preacher and Devil, he’s older, stronger, sexier and ready to raise hell.
I’d expected Crash to get my blood rushing and my heart pumping—I never thought that Preacher and Devil would make me feel the same way.
Preacher is sinfully seductive, confident like a stalking tiger. Even when his silky voice is soft, there’s no hiding the deadly steel underneath. He could tempt an angel into his bed, and I’m just a woman who goes weak in the knees when his lips caress my ear and he calls me his good girl.

GOOD GIRL FOR THE BIKERS is a motorcycle club reverse harem romance with a happy ever after ending. It’s book 5 in the Screaming Eagles MC Series of standalone romances with characters who continue to make appearances.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



“I'm sorry, Jacob. She's gone,” Summer’s voice hitches, like she’s been crying.

I shouldn’t fucking give a shit. The first time I hear from my step-sister in years and it’s to tell me my mother’s dead. Fuck her. Fuck all of them.

But shit, hearing her voice on the other end of the phone? How's it possible that it still sends tingles running down my spine? Jacob was a love-struck teenager, and I haven’t been that guy in a long, long time. Crash is a grown ass man that should fucking know better.

“Was it quick?” What a weird thing to be asking, but it feels like I’ve gotta say something.

Preacher, sitting across from me, frowns over the beer he's nursing. “You okay, man?”

I put a hand up, signaling for him to wait. He nods, but the frown doesn’t go anywhere. He exchanges a meaningful glance with Devil, who's sitting next to him with a brew of his own. They’re the assholes who helped me dig myself out of the pit I was in when I found the Screaming Eagles. Now we’re the Fallen Angels, like it says on our club patches.

My real fucking family.

“At the end, yes. He didn’t tell you, did he?” She doesn’t have to say who she means. There’s only one person it could be.

Mom's husband—Aaron, Summer's father.

The man thousands of people think is a saint. The one who used me as a punching bag. My step-father.

I can feel the rage building. That need to tear out of here and do something fucked up enough to kill the pain. Sitting here and trying to be civil isn’t gonna get it out of my blood.

My feelings for Summer are complicated, to say the fucking least. She was a goddamned angel when she was a kid. Aaron’s perfect daughter. Everyone loved her.

Even me.


“The last thing your daddy said to me was that he hoped I fucking died in the gutter so at least he could get a good sermon out of it and make my life worth something. You were there, remember? So no. He didn’t fucking tell me shit.”

Summer draws a nervous breath. “I… I thought… I’m sorry, Jacob. I should’ve known.”

“Name’s Crash, not that you’ll need to use it once we’re done here. Are we done?” I fucked this girl out of my system a long time ago. If she wanted me to care, she would’ve left with me that night.

“They diagnosed her last year, but it only got bad a couple weeks ago. The doctors kept her on heavy pain killers. She passed peacefully.”

It feels like a kick in the balls. Mom might’ve chosen them over me, but she was still my fucking mother. “Does Aaron know you're calling me?”

“Oh my gosh, no,” she blurts out like I just suggested she strip her clothes off and run naked through her dad's mega-church. “He’d kill me if he knew. He’s not… he hasn’t gotten any more forgiving since you were here.”

Her hesitation makes me see red. “Is he fucking hurting you?”

“Your language, Ja—Crash!” She chokes back a laugh but goes quiet fast. “No. He was never like that with me. He just likes things the way he likes them.”

Unsaid is that I was the opposite of what he liked. I brought out the devil in him; he liked to say. Me, a twelve-year-old kid with a smart mouth who’d never done anything worse than ditch school and pickpocket some shit from the convenience store. I’ve done a hell of a lot worse since then, but I’d like to see him raise his fist to me now.

“How is the old fucker? Still collecting Porsches? The congregation still happy to pay for his privilege of feeling holier than everyone else?” Of course they are. I still see the fucking billboards on the highway. He might be an egomaniacal grifter, but the shitstain’s got charisma.

She sighs. “It’s all the same. I have to go. I’m sorry if you hate me, but I just thought you deserved to know.”

Deserved to know, she fucking says. Yeah, no shit. “When's the funeral?”

Her pause is so long I can nearly hear the panicked wheels spinning as she tries to come up with a reason not to tell me.

“Never mind, I'm sure I can look it up. No way Arron would pass up the opportunity to milk the grieving widower act for all it’s worth.”

“Day after tomorrow,” she finally says. “I… just, are you thinking about coming? Because I don't think that'd be a good idea.”

“Afraid it will make bad TV?” I laugh harshly.

“No! I don't know. She’s your mom, but it's been years.”

“Fucking right she’s my mother. If anyone's got a right to be at that goddamn funeral, it's me.”

Summer's lack of response tells me all I need to know. She might agree, but not enough to stand up to her father. Same old story. I'm not fucking wanted.