STORM by Rie Warren



. . . Trust? 
headed back to the Blood Legion MC in New Orleans, my old stomping grounds.
Guns. Thugs. Broads. Cocaine nightmares. A Mexican cartel, cracker coke
runners, and now there’s a new international threat in town. 
Carmichael is my only partner in this op. Blaize. As a biker
babe. Jeeesus. I’ve had a bone for her from day one when she walked
into headquarters—haughty, superior, and always in charge. 
a goddamn good chance we’ll get made, played, and put in the grave as
government-issue traitors. But I can’t help it—I love to get rough, raw, dirty,
and dominant with her. 
more yes ma’amno ma’am. Blaize is about
to find out I don’t always takes orders as issued.
can’t stand the way Storm calls me woman or cher or sexy. As
soon as we’re back in DC, I’m going to wipe that infuriating wicked smirk right
off his dangerously handsome face. 
always prepared for every scenario. I’ve built my career on complete
professionalism in and out of the field. But when Storm comes at me with wild
animal lust—when he opens up to me—when he opens me up, I can’t say
don’t want to. 
in danger every single day we stay in NOLA. There is no way we can make it out
alive. Not together. Not this time.


“T-Zone took you in when the CIA wrote you off,” Blaize scathed.
“And y’all think you were the ones doing me the favor? Baby, you’d need an extra hand to count the number of
successful missions I’ve carried out for T-Z, and you goddamn know it.” I
pushed her back with my huge muscled body pressing against her.
I watched her swallow, but some seriously angry heat came off
It only made her sexier to me.
“You got no excuses for that off-op shit you pulled tonight, and
you know it. And you do not want to play this game with me tonight.” I began
Shirt tossed. Boots thrown. Belt whipped out. Pants tugged down.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stood in front of her—a
foreboding, tall, dark shadow of fully fit and ready-to-fuck man. “Lose the
clothes, Blaize, before I slice and dice them with my knife.”
She sucked in a breath.
“You and I both know it’s been building to this.” With my hand
curled beneath her chin, I lifted her mouth until it brushed against mine. “If
you don’t want to get fucked and fucked hard by me right now you better leave
this room and run tail back to DC.”
“I don’t back down from a challenge.”
I laughed. “This ain’t a challenge. It’s sex. You and me.
Clothes. Off. Now.”
She undressed while I stood right up against her. Her breath hit
me, her soft panting gusts of air. My eyes dipped lower when she skimmed the
shirt from her shoulders. Her bra—lacy and creamy white—almost overflowed with
her tits. I didn’t help her unclasp it but watched with hungry intensity when
she hit the hook and it popped free.
The straps dripped off her arms, and her puffy pink nipples
rasped against the hair on my chest.
I chugged in a lungful of air, balling my hands at my sides. My
cock, thick and hard, wet the bare skin of her belly with a skein of pre-come.
“The jeans now.” My voice was low, thunderous, chest-deep.
She wiggled free, her breasts connecting with my abdomen, which
clamped like I’d been hit by a hammer blow. Those soft swinging tits colliding
against me made my head ratchet back. But I kept focus. Kept my gaze on her
when she stood up.
No Fucking Panties.
Nude. Blaize. She was all golden skin and incredible eyes and
glowing hair.
And heat poured off her, firing through my veins.
I stepped away, rubbing a hand across the thick black stubble on
my chin. Taking her in. Filling my sights. Memorizing her.
And that little pink pout of her pussy lips—shiny and slick
already—below the narrow tangle of bronze-red curls.
“Fuck, Blaize.”
She held her shoulders back, placed her hands on her hips, and
asked, “Do I pass muster, sir?”
“Get on the bed. All fours.” A muscle at the back of my jaw
Her nipples hardened with my harsh words, and I watched a trail
of wetness weep between her legs.
Fuuuuck me.
I didn’t touch her. Not yet. But it was damn hard not to.
I watched as her ass swayed, her hips switched back and forth,
and she got into position in the middles of the bed.
was hugely hung, hugely hard, and really fucking angry. Blaize knew it, and she
was ready for me.
mating dance was nearly over.
I didn’t let myself get close to her yet.
needed to understand the new rules first.
almost trembled in my skin, walking around the bed, viewing her lush bod from
every angle.
voice thickened from my throat and came out hoarse and husky as hell. “Fair
warning. You’ll be screaming tonight. Not because I took a strap to your ass
like everyone downstairs expects. But because I’m about to fuck you so good.
And when you have a hard time walking and sitting down tomorrow? Won’t be
because I punished you. But because I screwed you all night long, cher.” I prowled onto the bed behind her.
answer, Blaize drew herself up and cupped her tits. I straddled right behind
her. For a moment. Running my hands over her body. Touching between her legs
and pulling her back to me when her pelvis kicked forward. Sliding my palms up
over the indent of her waist and holding her hands down to her sides. Lifting
her breasts, massaging them, palming both mounds and thumbing across her
my hand at the back of her neck, I slowly laid her down. Laid her out.


Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough
trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with
In His Command. Her latest endeavors
include the
Carolina Bad Boys, a fun,
hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie
started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic
poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for
paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school
to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie
has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social media
hangouts listed on her website She is represented by Saritza Hernandez,
Corvisiero Literary Agency.




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Rie Warren


Storm has had the hots for his boss Blaize Carmichael for a long time. He can’t even form sentences when she is around.


When Blaize picks Storm for their next undercover assignment, all bets are off as to how long he is going to be able to keep his hands off her. Lucky for him, she feels the same way.


Unfortunately their assignment could leave them both dead before they ever get to reveal their feelings for each other. Going undercover in one of the most dangerous MCs, their cover could be blown at any time. Making this operation even more difficult is the fact that it is a club that Storm used to belong to.


The president doesn’t trust anyone and killing people makes him happy. The Pres isn’t convinced that Storm is back for the right reasons. Storm and Blaize are definitely on his radar.


Amidst all the chaos, Storm and Blaize are able to finally be together. Their passion is off the charts. Hopefully they will make it out alive to be able to continue with a proper relationship.


Rie Warren has hit the jackpot with this series. These bad ass, gorgeous alpha males are what dreams are made of. It is super hard to pick a favorite.



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