Jax's Dilemma(Insurgents MC Romance Book 2)

By: Chiah Wilder

(Insurgents MC Romance Book 2)


Jax, Sergeant-At-Arms of the Insurgents Motorcycle Club, likes his women easy.

Raised in the outlaw biker world, Jax has bedded more women than he can count. The only things on his mind are big ass Harleys, scorching whiskey, and pretty women who can spread on command.

Then he meets Cherri—the stripper with ice blue eyes and white-blonde hair.

He wants her in his bed.

She would rather not.

Cherri has complicated stamped all over her. Jax doesn’t need a woman like her messing up his life.

Too bad he can’t stop thinking about her.

Cherri ran away from a bad situation back home.

She has secrets she hasn’t shared with anyone. Stripping is her means of making enough money to start a new life, and nothing’s going to screw up her plans.

Then she meets Jax.

He’s gorgeous, sexy, and a cocky bastard. His tattooed, ripped chest and biceps make her drool. She knows she should run far away from him, but her body wants him in the worst way.

Just as she begins to relax, her past collides with her new life. Cherri must navigate a deadly obstacle course littered with outlaw motorcycle clubs and a power-hungry politician.

Jax won’t stop until he claims Cherri. He vows to protect and love Cherri no matter what. When put to the test, will Jax betray his family—the Insurgents MC—or will he lose the woman he loves forever?

The Insurgents MC series are standalone romance novels. This is Jax and Cherri’s love story. This book contains violence, strong language, and steamy sexual scenes. HEA. No cliffhangers! The book is intended for readers over the age of 18.

Previous Titles in the Series:

Hawk’s Property: Insurgents Motorcycle Club Book 1


The scorching sun bored into Cherri’s skin as she lay among the wildflowers. Vibrant blues, purples, yellows, and pinks carpeted the verdant field. Evergreens stood tall on the mountain range as a gurgling creek lulled her to a state of peacefulness. She could almost feel goosebumps on her forearms as a light breeze caressed her.

“Fuck, that feels good, hon.”

The raspy, male voice brought Cherri back to reality, and she looked at the thirty-something man grunting and sweating as he thrust his dick in and out of her. She stared at the peeling paint in the corner of the ceiling. If only the jerk wouldn’t have opened his mouth, she would’ve been able to stay in her safe place.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he said as he squeezed her small breasts too hard. Putting his mouth over her pink nipples, he sucked them like a vacuum.

Fuck, when is this tool going to come? Cherri tried hard to get back to her safe place, but she couldn’t; her valley of wildflowers and sunshine was gone, retreating to the far corners of her mind until the next time she needed a haven.

She had created her safe place when she was fourteen years old and her life had turned to shit. It kept her sane until she split three years later to make her own way.

Finally, at the age of eighteen, her wildflower valley made the sex tolerable, especially with old men like the one who kept pawing her and pushing his lame dick into her. At least she’d get five hundred dollars for this trick. Even though she normally didn’t turn tricks, this guy was different—or so Brandon, the bartender at the gentlemen’s club where she danced, told her. The guy was rich and someone important. A councilman, she thought. The money was too good to pass up, so she agreed to be with him. She just wished he’d finish already; she wanted to go back to her apartment and take a long shower to wash off his stench.

“Are you getting close to coming?” He squeezed her breasts again.

“Huh…? Oh, yeah, sure, baby. You make me feel real good. I’m coming now.” Putting on one of her better performances, Cherri writhed and screamed as she bucked under him.

“I’m coming now, too,” he grunted. He stiffened, exhaled, and collapsed beside her.

It’s about fuckin’ time. Turning her head toward the window, she could see the blue sky. Tightness covered her chest while her throat grew thick. She wondered if being a whore was her destiny. Saltiness stung her eyes as she squeezed them shut, willing herself to be anywhere but in that mediocre motel room with the tobacco-stained curtains and the peeling paint.

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