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    CONVICT’S BABY


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      This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

      CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC copyright 2017 by Zoey Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.

      ***

      Sign up for the Zoey Parker mailing list to stay up-to-date on my latest releases, giveaways, and exclusive content. New subscribers receive a FREE bad boy romance novella!

      Click here to join: http://dl.bookfunnel.com/22mfxgmiow

      Contents

      CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Epilogue

      WED TO THE BIKER: Skeleton Kings MC

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Chapter Twenty-Four

      Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter Twenty-Six

      Chapter Twenty-Seven

      Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Chapter Thirty-One

      Chapter Thirty-Two

      Chapter Thirty-Three

      Chapter Thirty-Four

      Chapter Thirty-Five

      Chapter Thirty-Six

      Chapter Thirty-Seven

      Chapter Thirty-Eight

      Chapter Thirty-Nine

      Chapter Forty

      Chapter Fourty-One

      Chapter Fourty-Two

      Chapter Forty-Three

      Chapter Forty-Four

      Chapter Forty-Five

      Chapter Forty-Six

      Chapter Forty-Seven

      Chapter Forty-Eight

      Chapter Forty-Nine

      Chapter Fifty

      Chapter Fifty-One

      Chapter Fifty-Two

      Chapter Fifty-Three

      Chapter Fifty-Four

      Chapter Fifty-Five

      Chapter Fifty-Six

      Chapter Fifty-Seven

      Chapter Fifty-Eight

      Chapter Fifty-Nine

      Chapter Sixty

      Chapter Sixty-One

      Chapter Sixty-Two

      Chapter Sixty-Three

      Chapter Sixty-Four

      Chapter Sixty-Five

      Chapter Sixty-Six

      Chapter Sixty-Seven

      Chapter Sixty-Eight

      Chapter Sixty-Nine

      Chapter Seventy

      Chapter Seventy-One

      Chapter Seventy-Two

      Chapter Seventy-Three

      Chapter Seventy-Four

      Chapter Seventy-Five

      Chapter Seventy-Six

      Chapter Seventy-Seven

      Chapter Seventy-Eight

      Chapter Seventy-Nine

      Chapter Eighty

      Chapter Eighty-One

      Chapter Eighty-Two

      Chapter Eighty-Three

      Chapter Eighty-Four

      Chapter Eighty-Five

      Chapter Eighty-Six

      Chapter Eighty-Seven

      Chapter Eighty-Eight

      Chapter Eighty-Nine

      Chapter Ninety

      Chapter Ninety-One

      Chapter Ninety-Two

      Chapter Ninety-Three

      Chapter Ninety-Four

      Chapter Ninety-Five

      Chapter Ninety-Six

      Chapter Ninety-Seven

      Chapter Ninety-Eight

      Chapter Ninety-Nine

      Chapter One Hundred

      Chapter One Hundred One

      Chapter One Hundred Two

      Epilogue

      WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter Twenty-One

      Chapter Twenty-Two

      Chapter Twenty-Three

      Chapter Twenty-Four

      Chapter Twenty-Five

      Chapter Twenty-Six

      Chapter Twenty-Seven

      Chapter Twenty-Eight

      Chapter Twenty-Nine

      Chapter Thirty

      Books by Zoey Parker

      WED TO THE BIKER: Skeleton Kings MC

      WED TO THE DOM: Heaven’s Veil MC

      GIFT FROM THE BAD BOY: Dark Knights MC

      KILLIAN: The O'Donnell Mafia

      GUNNER: The Immortal Devils MC

      BOUGHT BY THE BAD BOY: A Dark Mafia Romance

      STARSTRUCK: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The Destroyers MC)

      HIS POSSESSION: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Vicious Thrills MC)

      HIS PLAYTHING: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Voodoo Devils MC)

      HIS PROPERTY: Iron Bandits MC (A Bad Boy Baby Romance)

      UNCHAINED: Metal Monsters MC

      UNTAMED: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

      UNDRESSED: Soul Catchers MC

      UNPROTECTED: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance (Hanley Family Mafia)

      Addicted: A Secret Baby Romance (Rebel Saints MC)

      OWN HER: A Dark Mafia Romance (Mancini Family Mafia)

      HARDCORE: Storm MC

      A Price to Pay

      Take Me, Outlaw

      Break Me, Outlaw

      Stolen

      Overdosed

      Ravage

      Bounty

      Trouble

      Monster

      Zoey Parker Mailing List

      CONVICT’S BABY: Black Dogs MC

      By Zoey Parker

      THE SEXY PRISON GUARD IS ABOUT TO HAVE THIS CONVICT’S BABY.

      I’ve never been one to follow the rules.

      But disobeying while I’m locked up might get me killed.

      Too bad I don’t give a damn.

      I’m gonna bend this guard over
    in my cell… and put my baby in her belly.

      I deserve to be in here.

      What I did was wrong.

      But g*d*mn, it felt GOOD.

      It’s been too long since I felt that good.

      Jail is no walk in the park.

      I need something in here to make me feel alive again.

      To send that adrenaline through my veins.

      I want to OWN something.

      To break something.

      Or better yet… someONE.

      And lucky for me, Sarah is the perfect pick.

      She’s a guard – I’m a prisoner.

      But this time, the risk is worth the reward.

      Because I’m not only gonna sleep with Sarah.

      I’m not only gonna make her bed for my touch, my taste, my seed.

      I’m also gonna put my baby in her belly.

      Chapter 1

      Kurt

      The rainy, chilly night of December 18 th was when the trouble started for Kurt “The Knight” Bellows.

      Of course, there were plenty of people who'd claim that the trouble had really started on the same date one year earlier when his wife and ten-month-old son were killed by a drunk driver in a brutal car wreck. And there were even some who'd swear the trouble actually began the year before that , when Kurt—an enforcer for the Black Dogs motorcycle club—somehow allowed himself to believe that he deserved the happiness of marriage and a family, without karma swooping down and cackling and shitting all over it.

      But no. Later on, Kurt would be able to insist with absolute certainty that it was this particular evening in December when everything began to go horribly wrong.

      That night, Kurt's MC accounted for almost half the patrons in the Rusty Spur Tavern in Matador, Texas. The town was their base of operations, and even though the Dogs had initially established themselves as purveyors of weed and meth, they were celebrating a new business venture that had greatly increased their income—selling fake IDs, Social Security cards, birth certificates, and other identification papers. The clientele for this service varied from high school kids who wanted to buy booze to immigrants who'd crossed over from Mexico, and even desperate fugitives.

      Ron Ribber, the president of the MC, was standing at the bar, grandly ordering rounds of drinks for his men and slapping them on the back. His niece Sarah Swanson stood at his side as she often did when she got off work. Her tiny frame was dwarfed by Ron's massive body as she laughed and traded dirty jokes with the bikers.

      But Kurt was sitting alone at the back of the tavern, chasing shots of whiskey with beer and staring down at the tabletop morosely. The sounds of happiness and triumph were drowned out by the grief that clanged in his ears, ugly and insistent, like a fire alarm.

      A year since they'd died. Did it feel like more time had passed? Less? Both?

      When he closed his eyes, he could still see the tiny crinkles at the edges of Diana 's gray eyes, and the way her curly blonde hair would gently bounce back and forth as she shook her head and laughed at him. He could still hear her soft, mellow voice as she cooed and played with Alexander, their infant son. He could still taste her breath on his lips, sweet and warm, like a summer wind.

      The rain pattered relentlessly on the roof of the bar, intruding on his memories. It had been raining the night she died, too. How long had she clung to life as the raindrops fell on the pavement around her? How long had she waited for the ambulance, holding Alexander's broken little body and watching her blood mingle with the puddles in the road? The cops and paramedics who came to give Kurt the news had said that they both died instantly and without pain.

      Kurt wanted to believe that. But he couldn't.

      He opened his eyes again, and for a split-second, he thought he was still seeing an afterimage of Diana. It caught him off guard before he realized he was looking at Sarah instead.

      And she was looking at him.

      Since Sarah was related to Ron and he was fiercely protective of her, all the men in the club made a point of treating her like she was “just one of the guys.” No one dared to look at her or talk about her in any sexual context, and this had always applied to Kurt too, since long before he'd met and married Diana.

      But the way Sarah was looking at him now, it was hard not to notice how beautiful and sexy she was. He could see the short nubs of her nipples under her tight t-shirt, and her cutoff jeans revealed her long, tan, toned legs. Her thick, wavy hair was the same shade of blonde that Diana 's had been. Her eyes were blue instead of gray, but their shape was still similar to Diana 's eyes. She even bit her lower lip in the same hesitant, sensual way, like a little girl who knew she was about to do something bad but couldn't help herself.

      And she was staring at Kurt as though he was the “something bad” she was about to do. There was seduction in those eyes—but there was tenderness, too, and compassion.

      He shot a glance at Bib, but the president was leaning over the bar to flirt with the barmaid and order another round. In fact, it seemed like he was making a concerted effort to look in every direction but Kurt's.

      Kurt looked away and shook his head, trying to clear it. He told himself that this was silly. He was overcome with grief, he'd lost count of how many shots he'd swallowed, and if his brain was telling him that Sarah reminded him of Diana and that she was giving him the eye now, well, it just meant he was so drunk he was seeing things that weren't there. He decided to have one more drink, get up, go home, and pass out before he did something he'd regret.

      But when he looked in her direction again, he saw that she was walking toward him, holding a fresh bottle and two more beers.

      “May I join you?” she asked.

      Chapter 2

      Sarah

      Sarah adopted a ridiculous French accent as she recited the punchline. “'Oh, monsieur ,' the guide says to him, 'you dare not miss! For if you do... ze moose will fuck my brother Georges! '”

      The bikers around her burst out into loud guffaws. Even Ron chuckled heartily, despite the fact that he'd heard the joke dozens of times—from Sarah, and from her father before that.

      Sarah smiled, taking a sip of her beer. This was always the best part of her day, when she could forget her boring, low-paying job at the deli counter of the local grocery store and have fun with her uncle and his Dogs. She loved their crude humor, and the way they sang and danced badly whenever the right song would come on the radio. She loved the way they talked about their bikes, the way they always smelled of leather and motor oil, the way they drank until dawn while trading stories of the outlaw life.

      But even though the Dogs were having their usual raucous good time, Sarah couldn't help but notice that one of them—her favorite one—wasn't partying with them. She briefly scanned the room and saw Kurt sitting in the corner, looking like a man who was slowly succumbing to a state of deep shock.

      Sarah had been hanging out with the MC since she was in high school, and from the very beginning, she'd had a crush on Kurt. Back then, he'd just graduated from prospect to fully-patched member, and in the years since, she'd watched his meteoric rise within the club. He'd always been Ron's favorite, a surrogate son to him, and everyone knew that one day he was destined to take over for him as president.

      When Kurt announced that he was going to marry Diana, Sarah congratulated him warmly, despite the guilty stab of jealousy in her heart. When Diana had a baby, Sarah fussed over it and gushed about how cute it was, trying not to let herself picture a life in which she and Diana had traded places.

      Then the accident happened, and ever since then, Kurt hadn't been himself and Sarah had struggled to find the right words to say to him—until enough time passed that it wouldn't be appropriate to say anything at all about it anymore.

      And now here he was, drinking shots of whiskey like they were water and looking like the loneliest person on earth.

      Sarah glanced at Ron and saw that he'd been watching her with a bemused expression.

      “It's the one-year anniversary, isn't it?” she asked quietly
    .

      “Yep.”

      “I feel so bad for him.”

      Ron raised one of his bushy eyebrows, giving her a conspiratorial smile from behind his shaggy white beard. With that playful expression, he looked like some kind of biker Santa Claus about to disappear up a chimney. “From the look in your eyes, I'd say that's not all you're feeling about him.”

      Sarah blushed. “Oh, come on, that's...I mean, I'm not...”

      Ron laughed. “Don't bother. It's obvious that you've been carrying a torch for Kurt since you were still wearing braces.”

      “Obvious?” Sarah groaned. “Really? So you've known about it the whole time?”

      “Yes.”

      “Do the other Dogs know?”

      “Yes.”

      Sarah blushed an even deeper shade of crimson, until her ears felt like they were on fire. “Does Kurt know?”

      Ron shrugged. “Right now, I don't think Kurt knows much about anything except the ghosts fucking around in his head. You could help him with that, though, I think.”

      Now it was Sarah's turn to raise her eyebrows. “Are you saying you'd really be okay with...that?”

      Ron put a hand on Sarah's shoulder. “Look, I'm not gonna pretend it ain't weird having this talk with my niece, okay? But you ain't a kid no more. I love you, and I love Kurt, and all I want is for both of you to be happy. Watching him sink deeper and deeper into the mud over the past year has damn near broken my heart, and if you think you've got an honest chance at yanking him back out, then you owe it to yourself—and to him—to head on over there and take your shot.”

      Sarah took a step toward Kurt's table, then wavered. “But he's drunk, and he's grieving, and... what if it's the wrong time? What if it just confuses things?”

      Ron shook his head. “Drunk or sober, grief or no, trust me—these things can always be confusing. But they can be worked out later. And anyway, he looks like he's drowning, and you look like someone who wants to throw him a lifeline. Seems like the perfect time to me.”

     

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