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Shake Up My Life (Nasty Bastards MC Book 5)




  SHAKE UP MY LIFE

  A NASTY BASTARDS MC NOVEL

  HAYLEY FAIMAN

  HAYLEY FAIMAN BOOKS, LLC

  CONTENTS

  Also by Hayley Faiman

  Stay Connected

  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

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Hayley Faiman

  Shake Up My Life

  Copyright © 2022 by Hayley Faiman

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop.

  Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove.

  Proofreading: My Brothers Editor. Rosa Sharon.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at: http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Created with Vellum

  ALSO BY HAYLEY FAIMAN

  Men of Baseball Series—

  Pitching for Amalie

  Catching Maggie

  Forced Play for Libby

  Sweet Spot for Victoria

  Russian Bratva Series —

  Owned by the Badman

  Seducing the Badman

  Dancing for the Badman

  Living for the Badman

  Tempting the Badman

  Protected by the Badman

  Forever my Badman

  Betrothed to the Badman

  Chosen by the Badman

  Bought by the Badman

  Collared by the Badman

  Notorious Devils MC —

  Rough & Rowdy

  Rough & Raw

  Rough & Rugged

  Rough & Ruthless

  Rough & Ready

  Rough & Rich

  Rough & Real

  Cash Bar Series —

  Laced with Fear

  Chased with Strength

  Flamed with Courage

  Blended with Pain

  Twisted with Chaos

  Mixed with trouble

  SAVAGE BEAST MC —

  UnScrew Me

  UnBreak Me

  UnChain Me

  UnLeash Me

  UnTouch Me

  UnHinge Me

  UnWreck Me

  UnCage Me

  Unfit Hero Series —

  CONVICT

  HERO

  FRAUD

  KILLER

  COWBOY

  Zanetti Famiglia Series —

  Becoming the Boss

  Becoming his Mistress

  Becoming his Possession

  Becoming the Street Boss

  Becoming the Hitman

  Becoming his Wife

  Becoming her Salvation

  Prophecy Sisters Series —

  Bride of the Traitor

  Bride of the Sea

  Bride of the Frontier

  Bride of the Emperor

  Astor Family Series —

  Hypocritically Yours

  Egotistically Yours

  Matrimonially Yours

  Occasionally Yours

  Nasty Bastards MC —

  Ruin My Life

  Tame My Life

  Start My Life

  Dance into My Life

  Shake Up My Life

  Repair My Life

  Sweeten My Life

  Russian Torpedo—

  Stolen by the Sinner

  Bound to the Sinner

  Caught by the Sinner

  F*cked by the Sinner

  Stripped by the Sinner

  Rejecting the Sinner

  Loved by the Sinner

  Offspring Legends—

  Between Flaming Stars

  Beautiful Unwanted Wildflower

  Esquire Black Duet Series –

  DISCOVERY

  APPEAL

  Forbidden Love Series —

  Personal Foul

  Kinetic Energy

  Standalone Titles

  Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale

  STAY CONNECTED

  Website: http://hayleyfaiman.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorhayleyfaiman

  Facebook Reader Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/433234647091715/

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  Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.

  SENECA

  CHAPTER ONE

  RIFF

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Scrubbing my palm down my face, I tug on the end of my beard and wonder what the fuck I’m even doing. Then again, it’s not the first time that I’ve wondered that. This is just one of the first times I think I give a shit about the question.

  The silence swirls around me. It consumes me, that is, until I hear her moan from my bed. Turning my head, I look back over my shoulder at the nameless, faceless, naked pile of flesh that is starting to wake up in my bed.

  Her platinum-blonde hair shimmers in the sunlight that is coming from the open window as she rolls over. Her head turns to the side, her eyelids flutter open, and she looks across the room at me with a soft smile.

  She’s pretty. Was a great lay. And I could see myself going there again. But that’s all it will be, just a fuck and nothing more.

  “Hey, Riff,” she purrs.

  “Hey,” I mumble.

  I don’t know her name, don’t care what it is either. She’s just a bedwarmer, a whore to spread and enjoy from last night. I don’t dislike her, I don’t even know her, but she’s just a body to use. Whatever the fuck that makes me, don’t know and don’t give a fuck.

  She pushes up, straightening her arms and placing her palms on the mattress, her eyes never leaving mine. The sheet that was half covering her body drops, and she’s now completely exposed, her great rack on display.

  Flicking my gaze to her tits, I slowly drag them up to meet hers again. Her lips are curved up into a grin as if I’ve just done exactly what she wanted me to do.

  “One more time before I leave?” she asks, pushing her bottom lip out into a pout.

  Thinking about the offer, I decide that there are way too many fucking st
rings attached to that shit. She’s not a clubwhore, she doesn’t know the rules. She’s just some girl. A one-night stand, a good lay, but nothing more. I fuck her right now, then it has the potential of becoming more and I absolutely do not want that shit.

  Drunk and high fucking at a party is not the same as sober fucking the next morning. Shaking my head once, I turn around to face her fully. I give her a smile and shake my head once. I don’t want to piss her off, because I’ve seen women pissed the fuck off when they don’t get what they want and I’m not about that drama today.

  “Sorry, sugar. Got work today,” I say.

  “I can be fast,” she breathes, parting her lips slightly.

  I got no fucking doubt that this bitch can be fast, but I also have no fucking doubt that her pussy is going to try to suck me the fuck dry and keep me forever. Maybe she’s a good girl, but for whatever reason, just looking at her, I know she isn’t.

  She’s fucking trouble.

  She ain’t like any of the old ladies. She’s not a Moxie, a Kia, a Marilyn, a Luella. None of them. She just fucking ain’t them and I’m not going to settle for anything less.

  “I’m sure you could, but you gotta go. I have shit to do today.”

  She pouts again and thankfully doesn’t try to talk me into keeping her around any longer. I watch as she slides out of bed naked, walks around the room, making sure to give me a view of every fucking part of her as she gathers her shit and dresses then gives me one more longing look before she finally slips out the door.

  When she’s gone, I gather my shit and head to the bathroom to shower. Some of the rooms have attached bathrooms in the clubhouse, mine doesn’t. I don’t really need it. It’s easy enough to just pop over to the shared bathroom when I need it and I don’t have an old lady or anything.

  It doesn’t take me long to shower, but it’s probably longer than most because I have to wash and condition my long hair this morning.

  When I’m finished, I get dressed for the garage and head into work. The clubhouse is quiet. A morning after a party is always a bit slower, and I’m grateful for it this morning. I’m hungover and don’t want to deal with anything too serious.

  Looking down at my watch, I cringe at the date.

  This day twenty years ago, my world changed.

  It shifted and although I didn’t think that I would ever survive it, I did. Twenty years ago, I was fresh out of the military. My mother passed away when I was a kid and my father died while I was overseas. I was alone in the world, and I was fucking lost.

  Then Bowie found me.

  I was drunk in a bar, not just drunk, I was completely blitzed. Someone started some shit, and I almost killed the fucker.

  Bowie saved my life.

  He brought me into the Nasty Bastards MC, and I never looked back, didn’t need to. I’d found my place, my family. I belong here. I’ve always felt as if I belonged here, but as I watch them all start to settle down, my brothers and even Prez, I can’t deny that I want that too.

  I want more.

  TANNER

  My brother stands in front of me as I sit at the breakfast table. He’s wearing his normal work clothes for the day. Jeans and a nice button-down shirt with a pair of boots. He’s a detective for the local police department, which means that he thinks that he’s in control of everything in the entire world… including me—or should I say, especially me.

  I’ve got news for him. He isn’t in control of shit when it comes to me. Not now, not ever. No matter how badly he wants to be. There is nothing else I would rather do in this world right now other than piss him off.

  I don’t care how immature it is either. He’s been driving me insane the past two years. He thinks that he is completely in control of me, that he says what I do and when I do it and I’m not allowed to ask any questions. Too bad I don’t follow any of his asinine rules.

  “I’m going out tonight,” I announce as I stand up.

  He shakes his head slowly, his eyes narrowing on me. “No, you aren’t.”

  “You do realize I’m over the age of eighteen, right?”

  Brent rolls his eyes to the ceiling, then brings them down to meet my own. “You may be over the age of eighteen, but I’m responsible for you while Mom is… you know… away.”

  “You mean, while Mom is locked away in the loony bin?” I ask.

  It’s not nice of me to say that, but it’s also not a lie. That is the truth of it. My mother is locked away, never to see the light of day. A mental break of hers resulted in the death of my father. Brent was twenty-five and already an officer when it happened. I was seventeen.

  Brent took me in instead of letting me go into the system, which I am eternally grateful for, but we fight like hell. He’s decided that taking care of me means controlling every single aspect of my life. I really feel sorry for his future children.

  “I’m nineteen, Brent. I have a job and I’m in school.”

  “School?” he snorts.

  Here we go again.

  “Yes, Brent. School,” I hiss.

  “You’re going to school to be a fry cook.”

  His words hurt, because I want to be more than just a fry cook, but at the same time, he’s probably right. That’s probably all I’ll ever be. My dream is to be a pastry chef and make amazing desserts. But the reality is, that here in East Texas, I’ll probably be lucky to have a job at a decent restaurant, odds are I’ll be a cook at some chain. Hopefully a nice chain though.

  “So what? What does it even matter?” I ask. It’s not like I have a bunch of job prospects in any other field anyway, and I love cooking.

  He doesn’t understand me, but at the same time, I don’t understand him either. We are absolutely nothing alike in any way. There is a moment of silence. He watches me and then he shakes his head as if I’ve annoyed the absolute shit out of him, the way that I usually do.

  “I can’t fight about this right now. I have to go to work. Some people have real careers,” he announces. Saying it to piss me off, or hurt me, probably both. Two birds with one stone and all. “You better have your ass home when I get off my shift tonight.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond. He wouldn’t like it if I did anyway, because I am going to make damn sure I’m not home when he slides into the house. So it’s better I just keep my mouth shut.

  I watch as he walks out of the door of our small two-bedroom, one-bathroom bungalow that straddles the bad side of town. I shouldn’t fight my brother on his rules, but at the same time, his rules are bullshit. He’s obsessed with my choice in school, like I’m stupid and making a huge mistake.

  Maybe I am.

  But it’s my mistake to make.

  My phone dances on the table and I shift my gaze over to it. Wrapping my fingers around it, I pick it up and tap my code in to display my new text.

  JENNA: Party tonight. You in?

  Where?

  JENNA: Oh, it’s going to be on fire. A real MC clubhouse.

  Shit. Brent would lose his damn mind. Like seriously, it’s going to explode off of his shoulders. Sucking in a breath, I decide to go ahead and confirm the party. First, because I do not want to be stuck here, and second because it sounds like a really good time. I never do anything remotely dangerous, but this, partying with a bunch of bad boys.

  Yes, please.

  Help me pick out an outfit? I text back.

  JENNA: Yes, bitch. I’ll be by in a few.

  I press my lips together, rolling them a few times, trying to hide my excitement. I don’t think that I’ve ever gone to a real adult party before. I haven’t gone to a party since the senior prom. I’m far too excited about this.

  Far too excited.

  Jenna is my best friend, but she straddles just on the other side of wild, whereas I straddle the line more than anything. I’m always being taken along for the ride of whatever plan she’s got brewing. Brent is going to be so pissed off, but I need to breathe. I need to have a little fun.

  CHAPTER TWO


  TANNER

  I’m not sure what has possessed me to wear a black miniskirt and a bright-blue tube top, but here I am. I’ve never worn anything like this before in my entire life. I’m not usually someone who dresses overly sexy, but I wanted to do something different tonight.

  A biker party deserves a sexy crazy outfit, but Jenna lets out a bark of laughter. I turn my head, looking over my shoulder at her.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve just never seen you in anything like that before. You look hot as hell,” Jenna announces from her seat on her bed.

  She picked me up after Brent left and took me back to her place to get ready for the party. I know without a doubt that Brent would lose his ever-loving mind if he saw me like this, and if he knew where I was going, he would completely come unglued.