Blood & Bones – Ozzy (Blood Fury MC #9) Read Online Jeanne St. James

Categories Genre: Biker, Kink, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Blood Fury MC Series by Jeanne St. James
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Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
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Big smiles. Loud voices. And a lot of hugs.

At first, not one person had given her a hug. Not one person had even said hello. She assumed it was because they didn’t recognize her or thought she was someone’s wife. At least until they got close enough to read her name tag. Then they squinted and looked closer at her name and read it again.

When it hit them who she was, they finally looked at her.

And what did Shay do? Smiled and said hello. Pretended like these people were her long-lost friends.

“I didn’t recognize you, Shay!”

Yes, because if you had, you probably wouldn’t have approached me.

Once the alcohol began to loosen everyone up even more, the men began to approach.

Some she recognized, some she did not, and most she noticed had wedding bands. Not that their marital status stopped them. Nope. That didn’t stop them from hitting on her even though none of them had given her the time of day back then.

They might not remember her, but she remembered them.

A few of the guys asked if they could buy her another glass of wine. She politely declined since she didn’t accept drinks from strangers and, even though she graduated with most of the men who had approached, to her, that was what they were. Strangers.

She also had fun jogging their memory on who she was.

Eventually, if they had a significant other, that wife or girlfriend would come and collect him.

All through it, she smiled.

All through it, she successfully made small talk when necessary.

She also continued to sip on her wine.

“Guess those braces worked,” she heard from across the table when she sat down for the catered meal.

She lifted her wine glass and said, “Yes, they worked like braces should,” before taking another sip.

“And your glasses…”

She had had corrective lens surgery the second she could afford it. “No longer needed.”

She could also “hear” them wondering if she had gotten breast implants. But no one was brave enough to come out and ask. Instead, she pulled her shoulders back and let them wonder.

She hadn’t. Besides the assistance from the braces and laser eye surgery, everything on her was all her. No fake nails, no fake eyelashes, no painted on eyebrows.

And no implants.

Her breasts weren’t large but they were enough and since Ozzy had exposed her cleavage, they still drew some male eyes. Probably wondering if, at thirty-eight, they were really as perky as they looked or if she was wearing a push-up bra.

They were and she wasn’t.

Her chest was no longer as “flat as a two-by-four.” Since high school, her hips had also flared out slightly and her ass was no longer a “soggy pancake.”

Doing squats and workouts to create more shape to her naturally slender body, had helped take care of that.

She was now quite happy with how she looked after years of being unhappy.

She had been the trifecta. Extremely smart, an awkward nerd and a “bean pole.” So thin that she could “fall through a crack” and never be seen again.

Some days she actually hoped that would happen. It didn’t.

It also didn’t help that she had to wear thick glasses to correct her vision, braces to correct her gapped and crooked teeth, and knew nothing about style or makeup at the time.

She no longer looked like a “boy” wearing girls’ clothing. She no longer looked like she should use the boys’ locker room instead of the girls’.

She also could see perfectly fine, unlike when someone ripped her glasses off her face and flung them far enough she had difficulty finding them again.

One time one of the football jocks offered her two glass soda bottles to use instead. He said they should work the same. Another time, in science class after someone stole and hid her glasses, a classmate handed her two large magnifying glasses and suggested she tape them to her face.

If she ever heard “boys will be boys” or “kids will be kids” again it would be too soon.

Long ago, she had decided if she ever had children, she would never use that excuse. To Shay, there was no excuse for children to be cruel or to bully one another.

None.

During her years in high school, she never got invited to hang out after school or to parties and even if she had, she probably just would’ve stayed home to study or read. Keeping her nose in a book, whether fiction or non-fiction, was her happy place. Her escape from reality.

High school, both junior and senior high, had never been her happy place. And only because of her fellow classmates. The people she was now surrounded by and having dinner with.

So, why the hell had she decided to come back here and do this? Why did she choose to stir up old memories?

To remind herself that these people could no longer make her miserable. To take back the power she’d given them, starting over twenty-five years ago.


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