Page 17 of Caged Hunger
Cameron felt his cheeks blush. The thought of Basher taking an interest in him had his insides all warm and fuzzy. Could Basher really play for his team? That was a thought he wished, more than anything, was true.
But unfortunately, he wasn’t that lucky.
Cameron continued to watch Basher throughout the afternoon. His eyes kept casually drifting to where the big, burly man was standing or carrying heavy equipment or listening to other people talk while occasionally nodding along—arms always crossed protectively against his chest.
Occasionally, he would even catch Basher glancing his way, always from a distance, always just the subtlest of glances.
There was something about Basher. The way he watched over everyone, as if silently protecting them all at once.
Judging by how quickly Basher jumped to his defense last night, Cameron got the feeling that honor and loyalty were very important to who Basher was.
Could a man with those types of traits get any sexier?
The cutest moment of the afternoon happened when Puppy—Gavin and Marcus’s dog—came trotting up to Basher and dropped a stick at the man’s feet.
Arms still crossed at his chest, Basher stared down at the dog, clearly not impressed with the dog’s social skills.
It was only after a few minutes of Puppy staring up at him, tail wagging and tongue drooping, that Basher glanced around to see if anyone was watching his doggy stare-down.
Convinced that no one was watching, Basher bent down, picked up the stick, and tossed it several feet away in the opposite direction from where Cameron was standing.
Puppy immediately took off after his prize, only to bring the stick back to Basher again for another throw.
Glancing around to still make sure no one was watching, Basher quickly picked up the stick before tossing it away once more.
Cameron watched as Basher and Puppy continued their secret love affair until Gavin, Marcus’s boyfriend, eventually came looking for his dog.
Resuming his stoic stance next to the tree, Basher watched as Gavin and Puppy walked away.
Seeing that sort of interaction made him wonder if there was secretly a big softy hidden under all that grit and bravado.
Jesus, that was just another thing that made Basher even more irresistible.
As the event wound down, Basher reappeared at Cameron’s table, hauling boxes and folding up tables to take back to the vans.
He never asked whether help was needed—just stepped in and got to work, once again proving that a man’s sexiness was measured by his actions, not his words.
8
BASHER
Sitting on a cement block in the back lot of Ride ’em Hard, Basher sliced another piece of the apple he was eating and tossed it into his mouth.
The fruit was sweet and juicy, and quenched his thirst in the summertime heat. There was something about eating fresh fruit in the summertime that just hit him perfectly.
It was early afternoon, and the bar was still closed. Marcus had asked him to come in a few hours early to help out with a few things, some of which included crew business.
He cut off another slice and popped it into his mouth as he waited for Marcus and Caden to finish up whatever they were doing down in the basement. There were certain things you didn’t ask about while being part of a motorcycle club or crew—partly because it wasn’t any of your business, and partly because if you ever got arrested, you didn’t have the information to trade.
Just as he was swallowing his last bite of apple, his heart rate spiked when he heard the familiar sound of his one true love.
Basher watched as his green-and-black sports bike turned the corner and sped into the lot.
His body was suddenly fueled by nitrous oxide, giving him that sudden boost to jump up from the concrete block he was sitting on and rush over to where his buddy was bringing his bike to a stop.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Basher gushed, ignoring his friend Nick and crouching down to give his bike a kiss on its base.
Her sleek, bright-green surface gleamed under the afternoon sun, reminding Basher just how beautiful his sports bike was.
