His Branded Bride-Steel Devils MC- Sophia Gray(ang.)

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.
HIS BRANDED BRIDE: Steel Devils MC
copyright 2017 by Sophia Gray. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in
any manner whatsoever without written permission.
***
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Contents
HIS BRANDED BRIDE: Steel Devils MC
Prologue
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
Epilogue
HIS INKED BRIDE: Black Aces 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
Epilogue
HIS BOUND BRIDE: A Bad Boy Billionaire
Romance
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
Also by Sophia Gray
HIS INKED BRIDE: Black Aces MC
HIS BOUND BRIDE: A Bad Boy Billionaire
Romance
HIS CAPTIVE BRIDE: Grim Rebels MC
MOAN: The Cantonneli Mafia
CONSUME ME: The Bleeding Prophets MC
DEVOUR ME: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (The
Wicked Angels MC)
One More Ride: Carnage Warriors MC
ONE MORE NIGHT: Jungle’s Thorns MC
ONE MORE TASTE: A Dark Bad Boy Mafia
Romance
SUBMISSION: A Dark Bad Boy Baby Romance
(The Marauders MC)
DADDY’S ANGEL: A Dark Bad Boy Baby
Romance (Crowns of Satan MC)
DADDY’S PRINCESS: The Horsemen MC
FILLED: Berserkers MC
BOUNTY: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Giustini
Family Mafia)
Prize: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance
MINE: Fury Riders MC
SINS: Devil’s Horns MC
OBEY: A Dark Romance
DENY: A Dark Romance
HEAT: A Dark Romance
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HIS BRANDED BRIDE: Steel Devils
MC
By Sophia Gray
SHE’S ABOUT TO
SCREAM MY NAME,
BEAR MY INK… AND
WEAR MY RING.
I’m gonna be the last man she ever has.
I knew it from the second I saw her.
I don’t give a damn who she is, why she’s here,
where she’s from.
Hell, I don’t even care what her name is.
Because from now on, I’m giving her my name.
She’ll be by my side.
As my wife.
My canvas.
And, eventually… the mother of my children.
But there are some bad men out there who think
they can hurt her and me.
Just wait until I set them straight.
I’ll crack skulls, slit throats, spill blood – whatever
it takes to protect what’s mine.
Because she’s my branded bride.
And the whole world needs to know:
Keep your filthy hands off of her.
This one belongs to me.
Prologue
Cole
“If you let me, I know I can make you happy,” she
whined, sitting up in my bed, holding the sheets up
over her breasts. They always want to pretend to be
hurt when someone calls them out on their bullshit.
She gave me her best pouty face, poking her
bottom lip out, looking at me with those sad blue
eyes, and tilting her face down submissively.
Lies.
“I’m not interested in playing games,” I grunted out
in disgust as I got up from the bed and started
pulling my clothes on.
“But I can be whatever you want me to be,” she
insisted.
“Then be dressed and be getting out of my room,” I
told her. I pulled my jeans up over my boxers and
buckled my belt. I threw on my kutte and ran a
hand over my face.
“Whatever I did, I’m sorry, but if you let me try, I
promise I can…” she started to protest again.
“I promise I’m not interested,” I retorted. I walked
over to the door and opened it wide. She gasped
and grabbed her shirt from the floor next to the
bed. She threw it on, exposing herself for a brief
moment to the door. Apparently, she didn’t want
anyone passing by in the hallway to see her.
I sighed as I waited for her to get dressed. She
hadn’t been wearing much to begin with, so there
shouldn’t have been much to put back on. Her
shirt, her bra if she was interested, her jeans, and
her shoes. That was it.
“Listen, I’m sorry,” she said again when she
reached the door. She put a thin hand on my chest
and leaned in to kiss me, but I turned my face away
so she couldn’t. She stopped short and sank back
away from me.
I kept my head turned away from her as she finally
walked into the hallway without another word. I
closed my door in her shocked face and locked it in
case she decided she wasn’t done embarrassing
herself. I sat on the bed and pulled my boots on. I
needed a drink after dealing with that.
I gave her a few minutes to leave the building
before walking down to the common room and
sitting with Mick at the bar. I wanted to make sure
she’d had time to leave. I figured if I got downstairs
and she was still there, I’d just go back up and wait
a little longer, or have one of the old ladies escort
her ass out – that way she couldn’t say I’d put my
hands on her.
“Saw your girl leaving, brother. She looked pretty
pissed off. Everything okay?” Mick asked as he slid
a Jack and Coke across the bar to me.
“It is now,” I said, taking my first sip and enjoying
the spicy whiskey lingering on my tongue.
Mick tilted his head back and laughed, showing off
the neck and chest pieces I’d done for him. I had
done tattoos for most of the guys in the MC. We
had guys like Bruce who liked old school biker
tattoos done in bold black ink, and guys like Mick,
who were covered in the new school shit, full of
color and detail. The lines were different, too. New
school tattoos created motion for the eyes with the
way the lines were drawn on.
I preferred the lively, colorful ink myself, but there
were still plenty of people out there who liked bold,
black tattoos. There were a few guys with prison
tattoos, but I hadn’t done them. They weren’t paid
for by a guy in a tattoo parlor. You had to earn
those, or you were a punk trying to prove
something that probably wasn’t true.
“Care to talk about it?” Mick asked, grabbing a
beer for himself and leaning across the bar.
“Just the same old shit, man,” I remarked.
“Another online chick?” he persisted. “Why don’t
you date some of the girls who hang out here,
man?” He nodded and tilted his beer towards the
back of the room, where there were a bunch of
local girls hanging around, trying to get the
attention of our members.
“They’re even worse,” I told him.
I turned around on my barstool to face the room.
The girls were hanging around drinking in their
jeans and black T-shirts. Some wore black leather
jackets with spikes on them like they were at a
punk or metal show instead of hanging out in what
amounted to a garage.
“These girls come in here, and they try so hard to
impress us,” I lamented.
“They can be fun, though, brother. Give one of
them a shot. Go for it,” Mick urged me.
I groaned. “I’ve given several of them shots. Sure,
they can be fun for the afternoon or for the night,
but after that, they’re usually just . . . boring. They
want to date a biker because it’s cool. Or some of
them want to hook up with one of us to have a
story to tell. Not what I’m looking for.” I turned
around to face Mick, who was still staring at the
girls giggling and taking shots.
“I’m thinking about taking one of them upstairs
tonight,” he said absently.
“You have fun with that. I want something
different.”
“I’ll never understand what you’re looking for,
brother. It seems to me that you should be able to
find at least one genuine girl among the ones who
stop by here or the ones you meet online,” he said,
taking another swig of his drink.
“You’d think so, but it hasn’t happened. They all
want to play games, man. It’s like they think the
only way to get someone’s attention is to put on a
show. We’re not birds in the wild looking for a mate
so we can preserve the species. We’re looking for
someone to be a partner for life. Hell, she could
already have kids for all I care.” I shrugged and
took another sip of my drink. Before setting my
glass down, I went ahead and downed the rest of it.
“Another?” Mick asked.
“Yeah, I probably should,” I told him.
He laughed and poured me another glass. He slid it
across, and I immediately picked it up and drank
half of it.
Alcohol will help alleviate the boredom of dealing
with these girls I keep trying to date.
“Maybe your tastes are too particular,” he said.
“I don’t think so. There have got to be women out
there who aren’t jaded, who’ve led a somewhat
sheltered life, right? I mean, what’s wrong with
wanting someone who’s still pretty innocent and
inexperienced?”
Mick laughed. “You gotta catch them young for
that, don’t you?”
“Not necessarily. I mean, I wouldn’t think so. I
imagine there’s at least one woman out there who
has lived a mostly sheltered life, either out of
necessity or personal taste, and she’s looking for
someone to turn that around. I’ve had innocent girls
before.”
“Yeah, but they eventually grow up and get some
life experience that changes all of that. Am I right?”
he asked.
“Yeah, they usually do. Or experience changes
them and takes away their innocence,” I mused out
loud.
“You haven’t found someone like that online?”
“You would think I could find anyone online these
days, but no. I’ve gone through several dating sites,
and these women get on there talking about how
innocent and pure they are, but it ends up being this
fetish, you know? It’s part of some fantasy they
want to live out with their partner.”
“Now, those are the women I need to meet,” Mick
joked.
“You’d think so. But, it’s just not the same when
it’s a game, you know?” I’d dated a few innocent
girls, and there was something about genuine
innocence, about being inexperienced, that couldn’t
be replicated by someone trying to live out a
fantasy. The truth always became obvious.
“Ever think you’re the one trying too hard?” Mick
asked.
I smirked. “Probably.” I sat and thought about it for
a minute, and then I shook my head. “No, I don’t
think so. I just want someone inexperienced, so I
can open up her horizons a little bit. Not necessarily
young, although I’m not opposed to younger girls.
And I’d like to meet someone without tattoos.”
“Whoa,” Mick exclaimed, backing away from the
bar. “You? Meet someone without tattoos? No
offense, but that might be a bit much to ask, man.
Do you really think a girl without any ink will talk
to you?”
I chuckled. “That’s the thing. She’s got to be
interested in expanding her horizons. But, yeah,
why not? Everyone who has tattoos had to have
gotten that first tattoo at some point, right?”
“I get the whole thing about the innocent chick. I
don’t know anyone who isn’t interested in teaching
a girl a little something, but why no tattoos?” Mick
asked, taking my glass and topping it off.
“I want to be the guy to give her that first tattoo,
you know? I want a girl with pale skin so I can
really bring out the colors and the contrast,” I
replied, somewhat dreamily.
“Oh, so you want her to be your big work of art.”
He nodded knowingly.
I grinned as I took a sip of my drink. I did want her
to be my masterpiece, but I wanted her to be more
than that. I wanted her to be my muse; the
inspiration for the artwork I covered her body with.
And I wanted someone with skin pale enough to
show off everything I did. I didn’t want to compete
with someone else’s work for space on her canvas
either. I wanted every inch of her body to be mine.
“I think you’re asking for a lot. A girl like that is
going to be very dramatic. You know that, right?”
he said.
“I don’t see why she should be. That’s why you
don’t see me messing with too many women. I’m
not going to get involved with just anybody.”
“You might be missing out on something great.” He
nodded at the girls behind me. “There are some fine
ass women in here today. I bet you could find
someone to keep you entertained for a while over
there.”
I turned and looked with disgust.
That’s not what I want.
I saw a few tattoos – small pieces on shoulders and
ankles, places that could be hidden for work or
family, and a couple of tramp stamps placed
specifically to be shown off as part of the nightclub
mating rituals so many people participated in. I
never understood why so many people treated
dating like it was some kind of meat market.
“I don’t know, man. I’m looking for more. I’m so
bored with it all. I’m ready to find someone I can
call mine, something permanent.”
“I may need to cut you off. Next, you’re going to
be laying over the bar, crying, telling me you love
me or whatever,” Mick said.
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t give me that macho crap
about how we’re supposed to sleep with as many
women as possible and not give a damn about their
feelings.” I drank more from my glass. That
lifestyle was not for me. Trying to do that was what
left me so bored and frustrated to begin with.
“Says the guy who just ran a girl out of his room
after taking her upstairs for sex.”
“Yeah, we didn’t even get around to it,” I admitted.
Mick shook his head. I felt his eyes silently judging
me, as if not wanting to sleep with every girl who
came into the clubhouse or every woman I met
online made me less of a man or less of a Steel
Devil.
“I just want something new,” I told him. “Some
new blood, someone fresh and unspoiled.”
I got up from the bar and stretched. The
conversation hadn’t done much for my mood, but
the alcohol did make me feel a little less bitter. I
decided that it was time for bed. I had to be at work
in the morning. I tapped the bar to tell Mick
goodnight.
As I shuffled away towards the staircase, I nearly
tripped over my own feet. I didn’t realize I’d had
that much to drink. I was going to sleep just fine.
By the time I made it to the stairs, I didn’t even feel
whatever it was that had sent me downstairs for
drinks in the first place.
Chapter One
Lilah
“Does any of it speak to you, Lilah?” Jenna asked
while we stood outside of Titan Ink. I stared at the
artwork on the lower half of the front window.
There were more pieces on the walls inside, but I
wasn’t so sure about going inside. Tattooed people
seemed to all be part of a club, and they could
easily sense people who weren’t members.
That was why I had brought Jenna with me. We’d
met working at the library together, and I felt like
she was a member of the club with the tribal sun on
her back, just out of view. She knew a lot more than
I did about the whole thing. This was going to be
my first tattoo, and I didn’t care what it was, not
really. I just wanted to break the seal and get the
first one out of the way to make the next one
easier.
“I don’t really know what I should be looking for,”
I told her. There were all kinds of dragons and
skulls. There were grim reapers and scantily clad
women who looked like they belonged on the sides
of warplanes. Of course, there were hearts –
everything from cute, round red hearts to more
artistic-looking tribal designs that looked like hearts
– and butterflies. There were a few Chinese letters
that were supposed to stand for different virtues or
emotions.
“Have you given it any thought at all?” Jenna
asked. I could tell she was trying to be patient with
me about it, but I could also hear her patience
waning.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it,” I said. And I had. I
had decided when I left my ex-husband that I was
going to start branching out a little and living life
for me. I had always thought of tattoos as being a
little edgy, like adding a little spice to myself, but I
had never really thought to get one. I always felt
like I was too quiet and too reserved to put
something on my body that may have told people I
was someone other than who I really was.
Plus, how many librarians had tattoos? Jenna had
one, but she was part of our part-time staff. She
wasn’t looking at running the library one day. It
was a job to keep her occupied and give her a little
extra cash while she finished school. So, the tattoo
didn’t seem out of place.
“Did you ever make it further than realizing you
wanted a tattoo?” she asked.
“Not really,” I replied. I looked at the people inside,
who were looking through binders at pictures of
work the artists had done in the past. I looked at the
guys working inside, covered in tattoos. How could
they tell their tattoos apart? A couple of people
came and went while we were watching with
varying amounts of ink covering their skin, and
some of them had the strangest piercings.
I didn’t belong there. I was starting to feel the same
way I always did when I thought about getting
work done, like I had no business trying to
associate myself with the kind of people who got
tattoos and piercings. All of the pieces I was
looking at were starting to blend together in a blur
of lines and colors.
“Why don’t we go inside and look at more of the
flash – see if something grabs your attention,”
Jenna suggested.
“Flash?”
“Yeah, that’s the stuff on the walls. And I’m sure
they have some notebooks with more flash art in
them. It’s basic or popular designs. Like my sun.
That was flash art I saw in a notebook where I went
to get it done,” she explained.
“But isn’t that bad?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t
want to offend her with my question, but it was
really all getting overwhelming. I didn’t want to
pick a piece of flash art and seem like a trendy
poser or something.
“It wouldn’t be flash if a lot of people didn’t like
that type of design. I mean, look at all the dragons,
skulls, and butterflies. Come on! How many can
you have, right?” she said with a laugh.
I laughed too, a little. I still felt like I had insulted
her decision to get a sun because she liked it in a
notebook by implying it was bad. The truth was
that I had no idea what I wanted to put on my body.
I didn’t even have an idea of where to start.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Jenna said, putting a reassuring
hand on my arm. “There’s a lot of artwork here to
look at, and that’s so you can find something you
really like.”
“I think I want something small. Small and maybe
cute, or maybe something liberating, you know?” I
decided I liked the idea of using my first tattoo to
represent my newfound freedom.
I’d been married to a controlling asshole. He never
would have allowed me to get a tattoo. He’d even
said on many occasions that he thought women
with tattoos were gross and offensive. I nodded
while I looked at the flash art in the window. I
wanted something that would represent my
ownership of my body and my life.
But what did that look like? I still had no idea what
I really wanted.
“That’s a good place to start,” Jenna said. “I got the
sun because it represents light and positive energy.
And I think it matches my personality.”
I looked at her face while she talked about it. She
smiled. She seemed proud of her ink, and I figured
that should have been the case. I didn’t want to get
something and hate it a year or two down the road...