Curvy Temptation (Raging Angels MC Book 1)

She’s a single mom on the run. He’s the President of an MC. He offers his protection, but will it lead to something more?

One click this curvy woman possessive biker romance!

Willow
As a single mom, my son is my top priority—
Even when the going gets tough.
When my skeezy landlord breaks into my room,
The last person I expect to help me is the President of the local MC.
Ranger is strong, dangerous, and he knows how to pull my trigger.
But can I trust him with my son… and my heart?

The men of the Raging Angels MC are possessive, protective, and know what they like—curvy women. One by one, they’ll learn what it’s like to fall into obsession—and love—with their women.

This is a Steamy Short Story Romance. No Cliffhangers. This is the first in the Raging Angels MC series, but it can also be read as a standalone. If you love short romances with steamy sex scenes and a happily ever after, then you’ll love this book.

I grimace down at the black sludge in my mug and start scooping sugar into it from the glass jar behind the coffee pot.
“Want some coffee with that sugar?” Lux asks, patting my arm as she walks past. She opens the fridge and pulls out a container of eggs, a gallon of milk, and a block of cheese.
“The more caffeine, the better,” I say, trying not to sound as tired as I feel.
That catches Lux’s attention, and she looks up at me from where she’s standing over the stove, cracking eggs into a pan. “I’ve always said you worked too hard.” She raises a penciled eyebrow in my direction. “Having a woman by your side would do wonders for you.”
I shake my head, knowing my small smile is hidden behind my beard. Lux is the widow of our late founder, Roman “Rage” Hughes, and the closest thing I ever had to a mother, even if I didn’t hook up with the Raging Angels until after I got back from serving overseas. And even though Rage is gone—from a heart attack, of all things—we would never dream of sending her away from the compound. She’s welcome as long as she wants to stay, and not just because she cooks and cleans up after our asses, but because the Angels are a family.
Dropping a kiss on her cheek, I take my coffee out on the clubhouse’s back porch. It’s my favorite spot in the whole place; while the front looks out over our body shop and the two-lane highway leading into Heathcliff, back here is an entirely different world. There’s a huge, well-kept yard with a playset for the kids, and rolling green hills and dirt paths lead to small cottages where some of the guys stay.
As I watch, a prospect comes out of one of the cottages, dragging cleaning supplies behind him. Rider just moved out since his girl doesn’t want to live on the compound, so now we have a vacancy.
“Hey, Prez.” The prospect waves at me, but I ignore him, keeping my eyes trained on the landscape as the mid-morning sun warms the fall air.
My own house is back here, up in the trees, hidden from view to give me some semblance of privacy, something I don’t often get. I spent last night on a cot in the clubhouse, collapsing after a late-night run, exhausted and hating how we were scrambling to pick up the pieces after that explosion at the Four Knights warehouse put us behind on our deliveries.
The door opens behind me, and heavy footfalls let me know it’s not Lux coming to force feed me breakfast. Turning, I nod at Stone, one of my enforcers, as he leans on the railing beside me.
“What have you got for me?” I ask. He’s been looking into the explosion, trying to figure out who we have to thank for the disaster.
“There’s a new club out of Havisham,” he answers. “They’re calling themselves the Misfits. Word on the street is that they’re looking for a leg up in certain businesses. They’ve been testing the waters in Blackwell, too.”
I grunt. “You talked to Rigs?”
He nods. “The Sentinels would be our allies in this if we decide to move against them.”
We talk a while longer about how to handle the situation before Lux sticks her head outside. “You boys are all business back here and missing all the fun in the shop.”
“What’s going on in the shop?” I ask.
“You’ll just have to go see for yourself.” By the playful glint in her eye, I know it’s not the cops or something serious.

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