Wild Desire: A Curvy Girl Steamy Romance (Wild Heart Mountain: Wild Rider’s MC Book 14)

“Happy Birthday to me…” The song echoes through the dark and empty house, and when I stop singing, only silence greets me.

I blow out the candle on the double chocolate cupcake from the birthday batch I made myself this morning. As I bite into the cupcake, the hard icing cracks under my teeth, and for one glorious moment I forget I’m alone on my birthday again.

I flick the lights on and take the last of the cupcake and a mug of hot chocolate to the living room. My favorite armchair has a coffee table next to it, and I place the cupcake and hot chocolate next to the paperback I’m currently reading. Then I climb into the armchair and pull the fluffy pink blanket around me, getting cozy in my nest.

I check my phone, but there’s still no message from my parents. They both left for the office early this morning. I heard them in the kitchen, and I came down wondering if Mom was making me a special birthday breakfast.noveldrama

I was just in time to see her grab her keys and head out the door. Dad at least said hello before he grabbed his coffee thermos and followed Mom. They work at the same office, for a wine importing business that’s made them rich, yet they take separate cars to work.

I was left in the oversized kitchen, the empty counter stretching before me like my empty day.

I pick up my book from the coffee table and open it to where I left off. A gold edged piece of thick paper falls onto my lap, and I pick up the invitation I’m using as a bookmark.

When the mail arrived at noon and there was a letter addressed to me in the handwriting of my mother’s assistant, I stupidly thought it was a birthday card. But no, it was an invitation to a corporate event next Friday night, a party they’re hosting at a local winery for their business associates.

Yup, my parents sent their own daughter, who lives in the same house as them, an invitation in the mail.

That about sums up the relationship I have with my parents.

I put the invite on the coffee table next to my cupcake and hot chocolate and turn my attention to my book. It’s just getting good. The tension between the alien overlord and the curvy girl he’s holding prisoner is ratcheting up a notch, and if they don’t at least kiss soon, I’ll explode with anticipation.

His tentacle tightens around my neck, and he drags me toward him.

“You’re mine, Bailey, in this universe and the next.”

My eyes widen as another tentacle snakes between my legs…

My phone vibrates, rattling the glass coffee table. I think about ignoring it so I can find out where the alien overlord is about to put his third tentacle, but when I glance at the screen, it’s Isabella.

My best friend is not the kind of woman who is easily ignored. If I don’t answer her call, she’s likely to show up on the doorstep with her huge hairy biker husband.

“Happy Birthday, bella.” She draws out the words with a hint of the Italian accent inherited from her father.

I try not to smile too much at her words. Isabella texted me this morning to say happy birthday, but this is the first time anyone’s uttered those words to me today. Not that I should care. Twenty-three isn’t a special birthday. I should be over wanting cake and presents and nice things like, say, my parents remembering it’s my birthday.

“Sorry I didn’t call earlier; Marco wouldn’t settle, and the little patatina growing inside me is restless today.” I imagine her rubbing her round belly.

The latest pregnancy has been hard on Isabella and her overprotective husband is demanding she rest, which is something Isabella has never been good at.

“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ve had a great day.”

Isabella grunts, and I can almost hear her frowning down the phone. “Define great.”

I glance down at my tea-stained pajamas that I didn’t bother changing out of this morning. “I’ve spent the day reading and baking cupcakes. I’m onto my third book.”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I should have come around. But Raiden dragged me to the hospital again.”

Concern flares for my friend. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, which is what the doctor told Raiden. It’s just bad morning sickness. They kept me in all morning and did a scan. I’m fine, the baby’s fine. Raiden…” She gives a throaty chuckle. “My husband is not fine. He’s anxious and stressed and pacing the place like a wounded lion.”

Raiden is the President of the Wild Riders Motorcycle Club. The burly veteran is used to solving problems, and a difficult pregnancy is not something he can fix.

“But you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Positive, bella. I’ve rested all morning, and now I’m restless. Which is perfect because we’re going out to celebrate your birthday.”

She says it so fast it takes me a moment to realize what she’s said. “Wait, what?”

Isabella chuckles. “You didn’t think I was going to let you get through your birthday without a celebration, did you?”

Only Isabella knows without asking that my parents forgot my birthday. It was the same every year when we were away at private school. Her father came to visit her every year on her birthday to take her out. Mine never even called. Isabella took it on herself every year to make sure we celebrated. The tradition stuck.

“You don’t have to do this. You’ve got your own family to think of now. And I’m fine staying in and reading, honest.”

Isabella continues as if I’ve said nothing. “Get yourself dressed in something nice. I hope you don’t mind that I’m not up for going anywhere far, so we’re having something at the clubhouse.”

The clubhouse is the Wild Riders MC headquarters. Isabella spends half her life there, and I’ve gotten to know some of the other bikers and their wives over the three years since she married Raiden.

They’re not as intimidating as they first seem. All the bikers are veterans, and they’re a legit club. They own a brewery behind the headquarters with award-winning beer, and they run a restaurant with amazing views over the valley. They’re a nice bunch of people.

Still, I’m comfy in my PJs with a hot chocolate and my book.

“I’m okay, really. I don’t want to intrude on the club. I’m okay here.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Isabella says sternly. “Get out of your pajamas and put on something nice. We’re celebrating your birthday.”

I don’t remember telling Isabella I was in my pajamas, which goes to show how well she knows me.

She was always like this, cajoling me into going out when all I wanted to do was stay in and read. Trouble is that half the time she’s right. If it wasn’t for Isabella, I would never leave the house.

“But…” I glance at A Curvy Nanny for the Alien Overlord. I really would like to know what happens when he gets all three of his tentacles in action and whether he’ll give up his kingdom for a quiet life on earth with the earthling he loves.

“I think I’m going to sit this one out.”

“Not an option,” Isabella says. “Maggie’s made a birthday cake.”

Maggie’s the pastry chef at the club restaurant, and her baked goods are to die for. “What flavor?” I ask, despite myself.

“Double chocolate.”

It’s my favorite. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad going out, and yet my book and hot chocolate in my favorite armchair also sounds good.

“Get yourself ready. One of the guys is coming to pick you up.”

By one of the guys, she means one of the Wild Riders MC. “On a motorbike?”

“Of course.”

“But…” I pull the blanket around me, trying to hunker down in my cocoon. “Don’t send anyone. I’m not sure I want to come out.”

“Too late. Specs already left.”

My mouth goes dry at the mention of Specs. He’s the club’s accountant with a wayward beard and sparkling eyes behind his glasses, which got him the road name Specs, and he always carries an e-reader tucked into his jacket pocket.

“You sent Specs?”

“He volunteered.”

Panic floods me. I’m not ready to see the hairy biker with the kind eyes. “Tell him not to come. I’ll get a car.”

There isn’t a ride share company this far up the mountain, but my parents have people who work for them that I can call. I’d rather have a driver come and get me than ride on the back of a motorbike with Specs.

“Too late. He already left, remember?” Isabella sounds pleased with herself, and I wonder if she’s noticed how nervous I get whenever Specs is around.

I hear the roar of a motorbike outside. I jump off the couch and check the security cameras in the kitchen. At the gates is a man dressed in biking leather and straddling a Harley Davidson.

“He’s here.”

If Isabella hears the panic in my voice, she ignores it. “Good. We’ll see you soon.”

But I don’t hear Isabella’s last words.

Of all the bikers she had to send Specs. Then I remember that Isabella told me he volunteered, and my belly does a flip. Whenever I’m around Specs, my shyness goes to 100%. The man makes me forget my own name.

The gate buzzes and my finger hovers over the open button, wondering if I should let him in. But it would be rude to turn him away.

I push the button to open the gate and watch as he glides across the courtyard and to the front door.