Sparks fly when a five-foot-nothing whirlwind of feistiness goes head to head with the President of the local motorcycle club!
This small town baker turns up the heat, testing his control at every turn without apology but when her past comes calling, he may be her best chance to take a stand.
Ryker
Leading the men and women of the Broken Souls Motorcycle Club consumes me.
Control is second nature. A must to keep my brothers safe.
That is until a five-foot-nothing whirlwind of feistiness upends my world, with a past chasing her across the country.
Now I'll do whatever it takes to protect her.
Demi
Moving to the idyllic Tennessee town was the best decision of my life, even if it was driven by fear. I've built a life here.
A chance taken to start a business that is now thriving.
But now the bad decisions of my past are threatening to ruin it all.
The leader of the local motorcycle club has made it clear he wants to be the man to slay my demons.
The question is, do I trust my gut and give him that chance?
Sparks fly when a five-foot-nothing whirlwind of feistiness goes head to head with the President of the local motorcycle club!
This small town baker turns up the heat, testing his control at every turn without apology but when her past comes calling, he may be her best chance to take a stand.
Ryker
Leading the men and women of the Broken Souls Motorcycle Club consumes me.
Control is second nature. A must to keep my brothers safe.
That is until a five-foot-nothing whirlwind of feistiness upends my world, with a past chasing her across the country.
Now I'll do whatever it takes to protect her.
Demi
Moving to the idyllic Tennessee town was the best decision of my life, even if it was driven by fear. I've built a life here.
A chance taken to start a business that is now thriving.
But now the bad decisions of my past are threatening to ruin it all.
The leader of the local motorcycle club has made it clear he wants to be the man to slay my demons.
The question is, do I trust my gut and give him that chance?
Demi
I know Iām interrupting my bestieās moment with her man but damn they disappeared and left me with the Grinch for hours.
Serves them right if you ask me.
Settling in for a spell, I channel my fierce momma bear. With a look of mock disdain, my words to Kate are meant to incite a reaction from the man at her back.
āPersonally, I think you shouldāve made him work harder for your forgiveness. Maybe a little begging on his knees first. But thatās just me. If heās what you want, Iāll keep my mouth shut. For now, anyway.ā I throw my friend a wink her man canāt see, a silent reassurance Iām not serious. At least not completely.
Giving them no time to respond, I shift my attention to the main room of the clubhouse in search of my next spiral partner.
Might as well have some fun.
āShots!ā I know my girl will refuse before I even throw my exuberant shout out into the air.
The lack of response from the entirety of the room is no shock. It also doesnāt bother me one bit.
My real goal is to provoke the hot sexy leader of this group to engage with me. He took his death glare to the kitchen an hour ago like he canāt stand the sight of me and that just wonāt do.
Itās time to recapture his attention.
āGirl, I love you, but I am not doing shots with you again. I learned my lesson at Deanās.ā
Kateās reply isnāt a surprise but still I play along. āPoo, youāre no fun. I need someone to do shots with me!ā
Itās all a ploy. One meant to incite a reaction.
With no volunteers ā no doubt Rykerās influence ā I zero in on Bomber. The brother unlucky enough to cross my path is the perfect opportunity to stir something up.
The man whose attention I really want finally saunters in from the kitchen, stopping short in the doorway. His glare is aimed my way. Arms crossed, muscles bulging, that stern āIām the man in chargeā countenance stamped all over his face.
Like a conquering warrior. He knows who he is. The power he wields.Ā
Yummy.
Six feet plus of bulging muscles. Dark, almost midnight black hair, cut military short with just enough length on top to sink my fingers in and hold on for a ride. But itās those piercing emerald eyes that never fail to ignite a fire in my core when they lock onto mine.
Oh goodie, the man I really want to rock my world.
Donāt get me wrong, he is the epitome of the perfect male specimen but his draw is so much more than his oh so delicious exterior. Itās the way in which he guides his club. The obvious respect exhibited by each and every person here, reflected in every witnessed interaction since I met them all.
Earned but not commanded.
The silent power and fortitude.
That is the attraction.
He draws me in like a moth to a flame and I am so ready to feel the burn.
āBomber! Come do a shot with me.ā My words may be for Bomber but my eyes are locked in a battle of wills with the glowering giant across the room.
The same man that storms my way before the words fully pass my lips.
He descends on me like an avenging angel. An irresistibly ticking bomb wrapped in denim and leather.
Stepping between us before Bomber can even acknowledge me, Rykerās fierce scowl hits me right in my girly parts. That stormily striking face hovering directly above my own brings to mind other more pleasurable activities with him poised above me in an entirely different way.
āDemi, what did I tell you about flirting with my brothers?ā The pissed off man gives me no time to sass back before he bends low, putting his shoulder in my stomach.
When he straightens to his full height, I find myself a long way off the ground.
Not that I mind.
Not. At. All.
My eyes are riveted to the gloriously perfect ass filling my vision.
Not exactly what I was going for but Iām not complaining.
This hunk of man meat is the perfect distraction from the shit show of my life. The one I left behind in California.
I play the part, letting him think heās getting one over on me, yelling and beating away at his back as he stomps down the hallway. Not letting on heās taking me right where I want to be.
His room in the back my goal all along.
āPut me down you Neanderthal! Remember what happened the last time you manhandled me?ā As usual, he ignores my rant altogether. And my fists.
Not that Iām surprised.
The man has the control of a saint. Even my knee to his junk didnāt faze him the last time I pushed him to play this game with me.
The slam of the door is my first clue I may have gone too far this time.
In for a pennyā¦.and all that.
Blood rushes to my brain when I find myself abruptly set back on my feet. Head spinning, I cling to his biceps as my equilibrium returns. His strong muscles are a distraction as they bunch and flex in my grip. Without direction from my brain, my hands squeeze automatically. Testing the firmness. The amazing strength.
āWhat is wrong with you?ā Ryker demands.
Clearly, heās not as distracted by our connection as I am.
It takes a willpower I didnāt know I possessed to let those glorious muscles slip through my grasp.
āWhat do you mean? I thought you boys knew how to party and Iām looking to have a good time. What does it matter to you?ā I know Iām pushing too hard.
This man has proven time and time again that he is not one to be trifled with.
But I just canāt help myself. I can no more control my actions around him as the air I breathe.
Doing the opposite of what I expect, he pulls away, taking two giant steps back for good measure. He stands proud in front of me, arms crossed, perma-scowl firmly in place. Nothing new there.
Ryker is the perfect picture of male dominance. Of rugged beauty.
A lesser woman might be too scared to appreciate the intimidating vision he makes.
But that just isnāt me. I love testing his limits. Aiming to push him past the breaking point, where he has no choice but to let go of that tight grip on his control.
It will be a beautiful thing and I plan on being the woman lucky enough to reap the rewards when that happens.
āDemi, none of my brothers are gonna give you the good time youāre looking for.ā His words yank me right out of my fantasy.
āDoes that mean you are?ā I purr.
Brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, his glacial expression could freeze the sun.
The look on his face may say my forwardness doesnāt affect him but he canāt do a damn thing to hide his bodyās reaction. The bulge behind his zipper contradicts the lie ready to fall from his lips.
This man wants me. And for whatever reason, he keeps denying my clear invitation.
Maybe he just needs a little push.
Unconsciously, I glide my hands sensually up along my sides, imagining itās him. His rough palms cupping the swell of my breasts as I push them up as an offering.
Through the layers of my clothes, my fingers close around my nipples, pinching in the way I fantasize him doing. Hungering to feel his mouth closing over the tips, teeth nibbling with just right amount of pressure.
With one step forward, he crowds me back against the door. Pressing his hard body to mine and stirring my arousal to new heights.
Much to the dismay of my bodyās desires, he once again does the opposite of what I want.
His hands reach up. Not to join the teasing show. Instead, he takes my wrists in a firm grip. A grip he uses to pull my own hands off my breasts.
In a move Iām achingly familiar with, he uses that hold to raise my arms until I feel the press of the unforgivingly hard wood of the door above my head. There he holds me captive, one large hand circling both of my wrists.
Iām his for the taking but I know from experience he wonāt give in to the desire swirling in his eyes.
His towering form is an anchor holding me in place. A glorious weight igniting a fire in my blood. He holds me captive with that electrifying gaze, the tantalizing pressure of one hard thigh fit right between the juncture of my thighs.
Apparently, he learned his lesson from the last time we played this game, keeping my lethal weapons from a repeat strike to his junk.
This is the closest weāve ever been and just as erotic as I imagined it to be. The hard muscles of his thick thigh the perfect pressure on my core.
Heās just as hypnotic as I fantasized.
And I wonāt lie, I have fantasized. Too many times to count. An embarrassing number of times alone with my vibrator.
Donāt judge. Self-love is nothing to be ashamed of.
His free hand caresses down the sensitive skin of my arm, prickles of awareness left in his wake. Those tingles zip right through me like a bolt of lightning, an electric shock shot straight to my clit. My core throbs in need, rhythmic clenches searching for the fullness only he can provide. I just know heāll fill me to overflowing.
āDemi, you have nothing to prove here. No one, man or woman, in this clubhouse questions your integrity. You can be yourself, no front needed.ā He says.
His words are a bucket of ice to the fire in my pussy, bringing me crashing back to reality with a healthy dose of fear.
Fear that sends the organ behind my ribcage racing, a living breathing reminder that this man has the power to crush me if given half the chance.
If I give him what heās asking for.
I have no idea how this man sees through me. Sees right to the heart of me.
My insecurities.
My shortcomings.
Not only does he see them, he doesnāt judge. For some reason, he has a genuine desire to understand me.
Understand what makes me tick.
And that scares the shit out of me.
No, thanks. Been there, done that. Have the scars to prove it.
Masking the urgency with which I need to escape his penetrating gaze, I put on the front everyone expects of me.
Laughing in the face of his scrutiny, I do what I do best when someone gets too close. Redirecting to deflect, I refuse to acknowledge he is getting to my truth.
āAlright, Big Guy.ā I say. āI get it. Iām not gonna find what Iām looking for here. You can let me go now and Iāll go find what I want somewhere else.ā
āDonāt you ever get tired of hiding yourself?ā He doesnāt buy it.
He never does.
He releases me, not giving me a chance to respond, inherently understanding I wonāt give in that easily. His expression is a mask of disappointment ā with a large helping of frustration ā as he puts the physical and mental distance between us that I so desperately need right now.
With one sweep of his arm to the door behind me, Iām effectively dismissed without a word.
It stings but I donāt let it show. I brought this on myself with my constant refusal to give him what he wants.
Pasting on a disappointed look of my own, I grasp the door handle.
I just canāt resist one last dig. āI thought youād be more fun, Big Guy. I guess the rumors are just that. Rumors.ā
With that last parting shot thrown over my shoulder, I walk out the door. My head held high, a promise to myself to keep my distance from this man.
Itās a necessary evil if I want to keep my secrets.
Ryker's War a fiery, tension-packed romance that blends the grit of motorcycle club life with the charm of small-town resilience. This gripping tale pairs Ryker, the steadfast and commanding President of the Broken Souls Motorcycle Club, with Demi, a spirited baker whose past threatens the new life sheās worked hard to build. The result is a story with chemistry, danger, and a lesson on the power of trust.
Ryker is everything youād want in a protectorāstrong, controlled, and willing to do whatever it takes to shield those he cares for. His world is upended by Demi, a five-foot-nothing whirlwind who challenges his control at every turn. The dynamic between them is electric, with sparks flying as their worlds collide. Demiās fiery independence and vulnerability make her an endearing and relatable protagonist.
Pembertonās writing excels in creating emotional depth, vividly portraying Demiās struggle to escape the shadows of her past and Rykerās determination to be her anchor. The juxtaposition of the serene small-town setting with the raw, unpredictable nature of MC life adds an intriguing layer to the narrative.
The romance is as heated as it is heartfelt, with moments of tenderness woven seamlessly into the action and suspense. As the dangers from Demiās past escalate, the stakes rise, testing their bond and forcing both characters to confront their fears. It's not the first book in the series, but you will have no trouble following along and getting swept up in the drama.
Fans of strong-willed heroines, protective alpha heroes, and stories laced with tension and passion will devour Ryker's War. Pemberton masterfully balances romance, action, and personal growth, leaving readers rooting for this unlikely but perfect pair.
With its feisty heroine, brooding hero, and a perfect mix of heart-pounding action and swoon-worthy romance, Ryker's War is a standout addition to the MC romance genre. Terrie Marie Pemberton delivers a story thatās equal parts thrilling and tender, keeping readers hooked until the very last page.