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Coups de cœur Cultura
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Jenny:
His name makes my body tingle and my heart pound. From the moment I met him I knew that he was the one. He was dangerous, wild, and intense. He was just what I needed, right up until the point our lives collided into a danger unknown. A danger that, for once, I wasn't sure I could handle.
Trent:
To the unsuspecting eye I was just another asshole riding too fast on a motorcycle too loud. To my fellow Desert Reapers MC members I was their President or “Prez” for short. To the cops I was an outlaw. To my momma I was Trent. And to the women I’d bedded over the last fifteen years I was a bastard. Imagine that.
The truth of the matter is that I was a bastard, I am a bastard, and I will always be a bastard, and that’s just the way it is. It was a fact I long ago accepted as immutable, right up until the point I met Jenny. I could change for her... maybe.
Warning: this 51K word story is for mature audiences only.
