Page 4 of Bad Boy Biker's Bride
“You don't know what you've stepped into,” he says.
“Then run along and tell them.”
The door swings shut and the cat lies back down on the bar. Hawk walks over to the window to check they’re leaving. Walking back behind the bar, I crouch down to the recess where I tucked her. The girl lifts her head. Her eyes are huge amongst all that white fabric.
“It's done, they’re gone now. You can come up for air.”
She's shaking as she tries to stand, but her legs aren't ready for it. She puts her hand out to brace on the side of the bar, and I catch it to steady her.
The moment my fingers close around hers, my world changes.
I don’t do romantic shit; I'm a man who once broke faces for a living. Now I manage a bar and ride with an MC. I haven’t had a single feeling I couldn't fight my way through since I was eleven years old.
The girl’s hand is small and cold, as I close my grip around it. She looks up at me, and her eyes are filled with tears.
“You're with me.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. “Do you understand?”
“I don't want to cause trouble?—”
“I said you’re with me, princess.” I bring her closer without letting go as the wet dress trails against my boots. “Hawk.”
“On it.” He's already got his phone out, dialing.
“Lock the front and get someone to cover the bar tonight. Tell Prez we have a situation and see who can get back.”
Hawk nods.
I walk her around the end of the bar with my hand still around hers. She looks down at our hands and then up at me.
Her voice is a whisper. “Where are we going?”
“My place. You're not safe in this bar tonight.”
“I don't know you.”
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but we need to get out of here first. I don’t trust those assholes not to be back here with more men.”
She makes a small noise in her throat and nods.
I take her out the back door, over to where my bike is parked. I get a leg over and reach back for her.
“Up. I don't have a lot of gentle in me, princess, but I won't drop you.”
She gathers the wedding dress up in two handfuls. There's a moment where she tries to figure out how and I wait. Then she finally hikes the whole muddy white thing up around her thighs and swings a leg over behind me. The dress makes a soft sound against the leather.
She wraps her arms around my waist and the contact goes through me, my cock hard as a rock.
I kick the bike alive. “Hold on.”
Chapter Four
BETHANY
I’m normally the person who reads the safety pamphlet all the way through at the rental car desk. Safety first. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before in my life, but it doesn’t seem like I have much choice. Now I’m pressed flat against the back of a man whose name I still don't know, destination unknown, on a vehicle that is essentially a rocket between my thighs. Thunder rumbles close by and rain starts to fall on the empty road ahead.
The biker’s back is huge. At five-foot-eight, I’m a curvy girl who’s spent my entire life not feeling small. But next to him, I’m tiny. He’s solid against my chest like a wall built to lean on, and the leather jacket he's wearing smells like something woody and clean underneath. Cedar, maybe. I press my face against the back of his shoulder for one second, against my own better judgment, and breathe in.
I don't know this man or this town. But the first deep breath I’ve taken in hours is the one I just took with my mouth pressed against his jacket.
