Page 77 of Eight Bikers' Heir
“Look at Daddy!” I shouted, pointing at whoever passed by closest to Adder.
Adder started laughing and kicking his feet, enjoying the show even more than I thought he would. He watched everyone, his eyes darting everywhere as he drank in the dull roar and flashy excitement. It was like it was the best day of his life. He was meant for this.
I smiled and kissed the top of his soft head, my heart feeling like it was about to explode from happiness. My life was a confusing mess before I met these guys. Everything was spiraling out of control, but I finally found my place in this world. I found where I belonged, and I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.
“One day, that’s going to be you,” I told Adder. He didn’t understand me now, but he would in the future.
Because this was his future. Love and excitement and motorcycles. What could be any better than that?
THE END
Coming Soon: Nine Soldiers' Obsession
Get ready for a one-of-a-kind military romance, an unconventional love story packed with thrilling surprises.
When David Grady and his unit head on a mission in the turbulent land of Vlasica, Brianna seizes the chance to be close to her soldier husband. Their relationship has been strained by his frequent absences, leaving her wanting more. Amidst danger and uncertainty, Brianna finds an unexpected sense of comfort in the company of the nine captivating soldiers.
As the unit faces danger and uncertainty, Brianna finds herself emotionally torn between her connection with the soldiers and the man she loves. Their unconventional attraction leads to a sensual exploration that challenges societal norms and ignites hidden desires.
But what happens when the heart refuses to follow the rules society has set?
Free Preview: Nine Soldiers’ Obessesion
Prologue: David
Sweat brimmed my forehead as I pressed my back against the cement wall of the staircase, dust fluttering in the air as I looked down at the door that separated me and my unit of eight other brave soldiers from a helpless, kidnapped diplomat and who knew how many enemies. But this was part of the job.
This was part of being a soldier.
I held my hand out, silently ordering the other eight men press their backs flat against the wall in a disciplined line. We trained for moments like these so that there wouldn’t be any mistakes. When we made mistakes, people died, and Paul Harper wasn’t dying today.
Paul was a United States diplomat who got caught in the crossfire of a local conflict in the Middle East. He was captured and held hostage, dropping another rescue mission in our lap to complete with precision and expertise. This was what we did.
And we were damn good at it.
As their unit leader and captain, it was my job to take all of their skills and direct them to our unit’s advantage, and we were all highly trained in different ways. I turned my head to look at my unit’s mission coordinator, Erick Atkins. His brothers, Elijah and Emmett, who bore most of the same features as the last piece of their triplet trio, lingered further down the line.
“I think I hear three or four different voices in there, Rick,” I reported, the smell of stale air and heat filling my nose. My military fatigues stuck to my body, making my chest feel that much tighter as danger loomed ahead. There was always a possibility that me or one of my brothers wouldn’t make it out of a mission alive.
Erick gave me a curt nod, his lips resting in a straight line as they usually did. If he was ever captured and interrogated, they wouldn’t even be able to make him grimace. He was strong in his resolve, and he probably barely flinched when he got that scar above his left eyebrow.
“We hit hard and fast. No hesitation,” he said before turning to Aziel next to him, who was our close protection specialist. Aziel made sure to provide protection to high-value targets, so he had to step up once we reached Paul. “Your brothers will cover you.”
Aziel turned to Amir and Andre, who all made up another triplet bunch in our unit, and nudged Amir.
“Don’t let me die in there,” he said, still looking composed despite the light sheen of sweat that covered his deep brown skin.
Amir, who was precisely nicknamed Sniper, smirked at his brother and held up his scoped rifle. Typically, he was hiding on a rooftop or specifically placed out of sight so that he could do recon or long-range assault, but he could be just as lethal in close range too, especially with Andre, who was our firearms expert.
“You worry about the hostage. Me and Andre have your back,” he replied.
Andre nodded in agreement, determination glinting in his hazel eyes that differed from his brothers’ darker brown eyes. He had softer features and a gentler demeanor than his brothers, but when he had a weapon in his hands, he was one of the most dangerous guys in the room.
Bowen, our tech and communications expert, leaned forward to look at me, a strand of his reddish-brown hair falling against his forehead.
“We’re ready back here. Mo and I will take up the rear to make sure no one sneaks up on us,” he said, referring to Mohammed, our reconnaissance specialist, who was also a second-generation Pakistani immigrant.
I nodded, preparing to go for the door, but I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I quickly checked the screen to make sure it wasn’t my superior, but the name “Brianna” appeared instead. A guilty ache struck me in the chest as I ended the call before the vibrating gave us away.