Page 2 of Cocky Biker

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“I don’t wanna go,” she mumbled. “Got other shit to do.”

He laughed, his shaggy black beard shaking. “No, you don’t. You’ve been mooching around for too long. You never know, you might enjoy the change of scenery.”

She shot a doubtful look up at Teddy. His name suited his cuddly exterior, but he was anything but soft when it came to protecting his club family. She’d seen him in action. His weight didn’t hinder his speed or his reactions. In a heartbeat, the guy could switch from doling out hugs to firing guns with lethal precision.

Rigor honked his horn.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Belle strutted toward him, sashaying her ass the way she always did. She looked good, and she knew it. Tan legs nearly as long as the Pacific Highway coming from the shortest pair of Daisy Dukes she could find, and a low-cut scarlet top that showcased the generous rise of her breasts. Heads turned, even men who had a good woman in their beds at night couldn’t resist a look. Hell, some of their women eyed her up too!

She climbed behind her brother and gripped the handlebar at her butt. The seat was wide and comfortable. Just as well, it was going to be a long ride.

Towering metal gates creaked open. Rascal and Dizzy barked, straining at their leashes with slobber glistening on their teeth.

The convoy of bikes began to glide out, Rigor and Belle in the lead.

Hot tires hit hot asphalt. Mid-summer made the air thick and heavy, and as Rigor wound up the gears, Belle suddenly felt glad to be getting away. Perhaps she needed an adventure like the gals in her books.

Yeah right.

As if Prince Charming or a dashing duke was about to shower her with romance, adoration, and passion. She’d spent her life around bikers—tough, rough, inked, couldn’t-give-a-fuck bikers. Not a romantic bone in their bodies. Not one among the bunch of them.

As predicted, the ride was long and hot. They made several quick stops for gas and food. Belle filled up on a burger and cola and managed to read a few pages ofTheDuke’s Desire.

The bikers had an air of anticipation about them. Visiting another chapter was always cool, but throwing in a potentially lucrative deal had added to the excitement.

Belle had no idea what the deal was, and she didn’t ponder on it. She’d find out soon enough. She just hoped they’d get on with it quickly so she could get back to her novel. Maybe even take it to the beach. She couldn’t remember when she’d last dipped her toes in the ocean—and that was all she ever dipped in, goddamn shark soup. Perhaps the long road trip would be worth it if she got to lie on a beach towel on golden sand.

Eventually, the compound in San Clemente came into view. Like their Phoenix base, it was protected with high fences and the gated entrance was constantly monitored.

Rigor drew to a halt but kept his engine running.

Belle rummaged in her pocket for some gum and popped it into her mouth.

Within seconds, a rotund biker with a scythe tattoo on his cheek appeared from a dusty-looking surf shop—no doubt a scam business to filter ill-gotten money. A huge dog stuck close to his legs, panting.

“Razor, my man,” Rigor said, holding out his hand.

Razor strode over and shook. “Good to see you, again. How’s the trip?”

“Damn boring, those straight roads… Jeez, they go on for fucking ever.”

“Sure do.” Razor nodded at the gates. “I’ll go open up then you can get a drink.”

“And a shower,” Belle said.

“Yeah, hun, we’ll make sure you can do that.” He winked then turned.

Belle blew a bubble. It popped on her lips with a snap.

The gates clanked open, and the bikers rolled inside, the sound of engines rumbling off the corrugated metal fences. The place was littered with vehicles in various states of repair. Piles of tires were stacked near a large workshop and beside them, a couple of garbage bins and a tumble of rusting exhausts, chassis, and an old safe.

Rigor parked and killed the engine.

Belle climbed off with a groan, her hips and back complaining at having to sit for so long. She dragged off her helmet and ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it from her scalp.

“Ah, the desert rats are here!”

A broad-shouldered older guy with a square jaw appeared with his hands held out.


Tags: Lily Harlem Romance