Corrupting Cinderella
Read Corrupting Cinderella Online
Authors: Autumn Jones Lake
Tags: #MC President, #MC Romance, #Motorcycle Club, #biker romance
COPYRIGHT
Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book 2) ©2014 Autumn Jones Lake.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
ISBN# (Digital) ISBN: 978-0-9907945-2-3
ISBN# (Print) ISBN: 978-0-9907945-3-0
Cover Designed by: LJ Anderson of
Mayhem Cover Creations
Edited by: Marti Lynch
Formatting: LJ Anderson
Photography: Kelsey Keeton of K Keeton Designs
Models: Cameo Hopper and Walter Veale
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Lake, Autumn Jones
Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book 2) / Autumn Jones Lake
CORRUPTING CINDERELLA and the Lost Kings MC series is a complete work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
This book is an original publication of Ahead of the Pack, LLC.
Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book #2)
Autumn Jones Lake
I’m not Cinderella
But he’s my Prince Charming
Our love story isn’t a fairy tale…
How can a lawyer and a criminal maintain an enduring romantic relationship?
Although attorney Hope Kendall and MC President Rochlan “Rock” North, care deeply for one another, the truth is they come from completely different worlds. Add to that the fact that they are also both headstrong people, and they have a very rough road ahead of them.
For Rock, that means introducing Hope to what it really means to be part of his brutal and shady world, where the Lost Kings Motorcycle Club is his main focus. For Hope, it means accepting the things she can’t change, and understanding that Rock is a man who will do anything to keep her safe.
As Rock continues to draw Hope deeper into his world, painful misunderstandings, past relationships, and opposition from the members of his club will threaten to drive them apart.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to my wonderful beta readers who stuck with me for book two!
Allison, Amanda, Angi, Brandy, Elizabeth, Chris, Tamara, Krystal, Clarisse, Rachel, Tammy, Iveta, Robin, Setty, Katie, Maria, Kathrine, Nisha, and Shelly. Your enthusiasm for the Lost Kings world has been wonderful! I am incredibly lucky to have you for my beta readers.
Shauna, thank you so much for always being willing to review any crazy little scene I send your way. Your feedback and encouragement means so much to me.
KA Mitchell
,
Cara Connelly
, Kari W. Cole and Virginia Frost, thank you for all of your valuable feedback, critique, brainstorming, and support. Kari, thank you for the big, green elephant.
Thank you Marti for your patience.
LJ for another gorgeous cover!
I could never name every person individually, but thank you to the readers who reached out to express your love for Slow Burn. I can’t tell you how much it meant to have so many people respond so favorably. And I apologize to anyone I scared away with my over-enthusiastic thank yous.
Most of all, I have to thank my husband. For every time I cried about the slowdown of work in my day job this year, and you said “Good. Use the extra time to write,” I love you.
DEDICATION
For my grandmother, Gloria, who gave me my first romance novel. I wish we’d had more time together, and I hope you’re looking down on me with pride.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
I hate birthdays.
Well, at least I hate
my
birthday.
Although, this year, I have a lot to celebrate. I’m finally with the person I want to grow old with. Maybe this year’s birthday ain’t so bad. Given the sort of life I lead, I should be thrilled I even make it to my birthday each year.
It’s been a few weeks since Hope and I had our heart-to-heart, subsequent
disagreement,
and the drama at the courthouse. I feel lighter since coming clean with her. Well, sort of. I still have lots of things I’m hiding, but little by little I plan to share everything with her.
We’ve spent a lot of time together, and I’ve never been happier. Still there’s things I’ve neglected—nothing important, like weekly church, where we sit down to discuss club business—but I definitely need to show my face at the clubhouse tonight. I’ve managed to negotiate a few good deals for the MC from my home office, usually with Hope sitting on my lap while I make my cryptic phone calls—so at least I have that to alleviate any guilt over my absence.
As much as I’d like to spend the evening under the covers with Hope, I can’t avoid another Friday night get-together. It’s also time I reveal more about this part of my life to her.
“Are you sure you want me there?” she asks for the third time tonight.
She picks at the hem of her shirt as I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous.
“Of course, doll.” Placing a hand on each shoulder, I pull her closer to me. “I haven’t been for the last few weeks. I need to put in an appearance, and I want you with me. I need to start introducing you to everyone as my woman.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Your woman. You sound like a caveman.”
The corners of my mouth turn up. “You say that like it’s an insult.”
“I just feel so out of place around your friends.”
I sigh and suffer a bit of guilt. I hate making her uncomfortable. And it’s quite possible things could get very uncomfortable for my girl tonight. “Your place is with me, doll.”
That seems to cheer her up, and she tosses her hands in the air. “Well, what do I wear?”
I thrust my fingers through my hair. Normally, I’d say as little as possible. But, I don’t want Hope showing those fuckers any more skin than necessary. I wonder if she has a snowsuit?
“Something comfortable. We’re riding my bike up.”
That gets a smile out of her. My girl has taken to the bike more than I expected she would. She’s my perfect blend of sweet and wild.
She dashes into her closet. As I’m standing there, clothes, hangers, and shoes start flying through the air. Some of it lands on the bedroom floor at my feet. I shake my head at the mess she’s making. I’m going to need to give my baby an entire room to use as a closet. That way I can just shut the door on the whole thing. If I ever get her to move the fuck in with me.
Fuck. I’m distracted by her bending over, tipping her perfect, denim-covered ass in my direction. I’m so close to skipping the party, except that I know the club will have something planned for my birthday.
We haven’t been together long enough that I bother mentioning the day to Hope. It’s not as if I’m some little kid expecting a present. Just being with her every second I can get has been enough of a gift. No reason to get greedy.
She’s finally ready and proudly shows off her LOKI T-shirt. It’s all my favorite things: blue, tight, and tiny—with my club’s logo spelled out right over her perfect, perky breasts. Now
that’s
a present.
Her lips are quivering with barely concealed glee, and I notice she’s got something tucked behind her back.
“Whatcha got there, doll?”
Almost shyly, she swings this box out from behind her. It’s wrapped in matte black paper with a silver bow.
“Happy Birthday.”
I’m stunned. Completely dumbfounded. How did she even know? I’m standing there like an idiot for so long, worry steals over her face, so I reach out and take the box. It’s got some heft to it, and I’m dying to know what my girl got for me. I stagger over to the bed and drop down. She follows and stands over me, running her fingers through my hair.
“I wasn’t sure what to get the big, bad biker who has everything…”
It’s silly, but when she calls me that, it sends a thrill through me. “Whatever it is, I’ll love it,” I assure her.
Ripping off the paper leaves my jaw hanging. “My God, Hope. How did you even find this?” I’m holding a box with a bottle of specially aged, sixteen-year-old single malt Scotch. It’s in a fancy box because it comes in a wooden frame designed to look like a Viking ship. I know it probably cost quite a bit since only 1,500 bottles were even released in the States. I can’t imagine the trouble she went to in order to track it down.
“Do you think you’ll like it? I don’t know that much about Scotch or liquor in general. The guy I ordered it from told me any serious Scotch drinker would like it.” She stops and gives me that shy smile I love so much. “I really liked the ship thingie it comes in, it reminded me of—”
She stops and traces her fingers over my chest. I know she means my pirate ship tattoo, and I don’t bother correcting her because I don’t care about anything but how generous and lovely my girl is.