Lost Reapers MC- Claimed by the Bikers

Lost Reapers MC- Claimed by the Bikers

Emma Mountford · Ongoing · 249.6k Words

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Introduction

Book 1- Ten years ago Charlotte fell in love.
Seven years ago she made a terrible mistake that would rip them apart forever.
Now, she's just trying to rebuild her life.
Moving into the safe neighbourhood was meant to be the start of something great, and it was right up until she realised The Lost Reapers MC were her next door neighbours.
Bikers were bad news… everyone knew that.
Everyone it seemed but Charlotte herself, who finds herself undeniably drawn to not one but two bikers.
But who will she choose and more importantly will she even get the chance to?
Because the past is about to catch up with her and her two hot bikers might not be able to save her in time.
**contains the following themes
MMF
Why Choose
Explicit Sex
Violence and SA (not between main characters)
Forbidden romance

Book 2- Daisy in Chains
*** contains the following themes
Explicit sex
Grumpy/sunshine
Age Gap
Violence, ☠️, and talk of SA (not between main characters.

Book 3- Runaway Muse
*** contains the following themes
Explicit sex
Opposites attract
Secret identity
Grief and Violence (both on and off the page)

Cover Design- RJ Creatives
(No ai was used in any part of the production of this

Chapter 1

Lottie

The music was so loud that the walls seemed to thrum with it. Which was surprising because my new home wasn't attached to any other houses. I'd chosen it for the privacy it would give me and for the quiet.

Although quiet seems to be the last thing on my closest neighbour's mind. I'd spent the afternoon watching bike after bike and car after car, pull up the secluded road towards his gate. I'd even thought it was strange but now I knew why so many people were turning up.

They were throwing a party and a big one at that.

The kind of party  that I had always stayed away from, even when I was a stupid kid and thought pushing my parents boundaries had been the way to catch Killians attention.

Killian.

His name was a prayer and a curse to me. Even after seven years and four months his name still made my body react physically. My heart sped up. My palms got sweaty and my-

Well no one had come close to bringing me the same kind of pleasure that Killian Johnson had ever given me.

No one would probably ever come close.

In the sack Kilian was a machine.

Out of it, he was a monster.

It had just taken me a while to yank off the rose tinted glasses and see my foster brother for what he really was.

A psychopath.

Killian Johnson had been bad news, and he was still bad news. Luckily for me, since he had got out of prison two years ago, I hadn't seen him at all. Which was for the best, seeing as I was the one who put him in the big house.

It had been my testimony that had locked him up, and the look he had thrown me from the dock when he was sentenced was the only thing I thought about more than the feel of him between my legs.

Damn Killian Johnson. Damn him.

Shaking my head I dipped the paint brush back into the paint and swiped it over the grey walls.

I never understood the reasoning for people to use white and grey in their houses. Surely they wanted their homes to be interesting? To have a little flare and flavour?

Or maybe it was just me. After years of living under my parents strict role, the moment I was old enough to break the rules I had and I had been doing it every day since.

They might not like my life choices, but I paid my own bills and I could do whatever I wanted.

Another booming beat began. Louder and harder than the one before and the paint literally jumped from my brush to my hand and slid down my arm. A bright smudge of red, that kind of looked like blood.

I stared down at it for a second. Watching the trail and I was thrown back into the past. To another night , just like this one where it had been actually blood coating my hands and arm.

Bile rushed up my throat. So thick and fast that it was a struggle to swallow it down.

“Oh enough.” I snapped at the empty room around me. “Enough of thinking about that night, enough thinking about him. It wasn't your fault.”

The boxes around my feet didn't answer me,  I didn't expect them either. I didn't even expect an answer of my own. I knew the truth , it just didn't stop me telling myself that particular lie. And maybe one day I would actually believe it.

Maybe.

Sighing heavily, I dropped the brush back into its tray and stepped back. Painting was therapeutic, usually. With the noise from next door pounding away it was just making me angry.

I had been promised that this was a quiet area. No crime. Safe.

It was the reason I had signed the lease even if the rent was astronomically high.

A safe place to live was always top of my agenda- just in case.

Well just in case Killian decided he wanted to come knocking after all.

“He won’t.” I told myself firmly. “He wouldn't dare, and he knows why I did it. Why I had to do it.”

Another lie but this one was one I already half believed.

Still if Killian wanted to start trouble then he would have done it by now. I knew him, he wouldn't have the patience to wait to ruin my life.

Rubbing my paint coated hands down my denim cut offs, I looked around. noticing the lights from next door flashing through the trees that separate our property.

A party alright, and a big on at that.

Moving across the room, to press my nose up against the glass I tried to make sense of the movements between the trees but it just looked like one big mess.

And lots of half naked bodies. I could see the flash of skin from the lights.

My eyes rolled. I did not know what I had expected from this neighbourhood. A black tie affair? Something like my parents would throw? That was a stupid assumption.

The night was balmy, summer was in full swing. Of course they were having a pool party. I would have probably done the same if I had any friends here. But after six years of moving from place to place every few months, friendship was something I just couldn't maintain.

Whoever lived next door seemed to have lots of friends and they were having a whale of a time and I wasn't above admitting I was a little jealous. It had been years since I had been invited to a party.

The last time was probably the summer before I fucked up evryones life. My own included.

Turning on my bare feet, I moved through the empty house before I knew what I was doing. It was like the pounding base of the dance music and the flashing lights  drew me to them.

Leaving the front door on the latch, I crept around the house and through the trees. Winding through the shadowy trunks until I got to the boundary fence.

Out here, the music was even louder. Throbbing so violently that my heart seemed to match its speed.

Through a gap in the old wooden fence I watched the party goers. Sucking in a startled breath, I realised there was a lot more than dancing going on over there. Sure there were women in bikinis, some splashing in the pool but everywhere looked naked bodies writhed. Some dancing, some doing a more intimate dance with their partner of choice.

Hell some of them had more than one partner.

The whole scene playing out in front of me was like some hedonistic dream and I couldn't look away.

I wasn't a prude but never in my life had I seen anything like it.

They all looked like they were having the time of their lives.

And i was-

I was fuckign jealous.

When was the last time I had that much fun with a member of the opposite sex? Months. Not because they didn't try, they always tried but just  because I couldn't be bothered with boring mundane sex and the effort it took to pretend it was any good.

The women over there didn't seem to have the problem.

“You alright there Boo?”

A scream caught in my throat, and I fell back. Only just catching myself in time so I didn't land on my ass.

High above my head, perched on the edge of the fence like some black leather clad crow was a man. Or at least I thought it was a man. It was impossible to tell under the mask he wore over his face. The glow in the dark x;s where his eyes shud be seemed to move.

Was he laughing at scaring me?

Asshole.

“You scared me.” I growled out, my hand still pressed against my rapidly beating heart. “Asshole.”

The man on the fence didn't move a muscle for the space of five whole seconds and then he yanked up the mask, to reveal full lips and the shadow of stubble and the most gorgeous skin tone I had ever seen. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket he lit it and blew a long plume of grey smoke down at me.

“Here.” Smirking, he offered me the cigarette. “Sometimes watching can be as hot as taking part, don't you think?  And it looks like you need this.”

Shaking my head I took a step back. “No thanks, smoking is a disgusting habit.”

“So is watching someone's intimate relations through a hole in the fence but here we are.”

Glowering at him, I shook my head even though he had a point. “I wasn't spying on anyone's intimate moments.” I snapped back. Even though I had definitely been doing that. And the dampness of my panties proved that I had enjoyed the show as well. “I came from next door, the music is so loud and I wanted to ask the owner to turn it down a little. I didn't mean to see what I did.”

Another puff, the orange ember illuminating his face for a second before he swung his legs across and jumped down.  Landing softly right in front of me. “Now usually people use the front door to complain. If they dare.”

Another twitch of his lips.

It was more like the asshole was trying not to laugh at me.

“I just didn’t-”

This time he didn't even try to bite back a laugh. “It's cool Boo.” The half smoked cigarette was tossed away. “Let me escort you to the front door unless-”

I didn't need to see his eyes to know he was giving me the once over. And you would have had to be blind to know he liked what he saw.

“You want to have a more private party, just me and you.”

I rolled my eyes. “In your dreams asshole.”

Smashing a hand to his heart , he reeled back like I had hit him. “Ohhh you will definitely be there, Boo. Now come on. Let me show you the way so you can ask your neighbor to keep the noise down.”

I couldn't help it. I laughed. Shaking my head I fell into step with him. Even though his stride was at least twice the length of mine.

“Running around the woods bare foot is stupid, you know.” he tapped out another cigarette.

“So is smoking and yet here we are.” There was no way I was going to admit how sore the bottoms of my feet were.

“Touche.” He shrugged.” I mean I could carry you but-”

I stormed ahead. I didn't need some masked creep to carry me. I just needed them to turn the music down enough for me to sleep and then they could get on with their orgy.

And I wasn't jealous at all. I wasn't.

“Wait,” I froze, my feet on the mud and half on the tarmac. There was more light here and I could see him more clearly.

The mask was back over his face but there could be no doubt about what was covering his pristine white t-shirt.

My eyes roved over the black leather waistcoat.

“You're a biker.”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, you seemed surprised Boo.”

“No, it's just.” Chewing on my lip I stared towards the gate next door. “I was told this area was safe. No crime.”

He continued to stare at me. “It is safe. We keep it safe.”

It might have been my imagination but he sounded kind of insulted and that was the last thing I wanted.

Pissing off bikers was not on my to do list. I wouldn't make that mistake ever again.

“Sure, well thanks but I think I'm going to head home.”

“You don't want to come and complain to the owner of the house?” he cocked his head to the side. “I’m pretty sure he will listen to you , a pretty little thing like you.”

I wallowed hard. “No, I'll be fine."

The masked stranger's laughter bubbled up. Condescending to say the least. “Thats a shame, because he really wants to get you into that party.”

“Huh?” Confused, I turned back to face him.

“Hey,” He thrust out his hand. “Xander, Vice president of the Lost Reapers. This is my house.”

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