Read Online Bikers Desire (BBW Motorcycle Romance) (Dark Souls MC) by Aubrey Watts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Aubrey Watts
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him then that’s what I had to do. It was clear just by looking at him that there was no negotiating.
When we got outside he approached a jet black Harley and handed me his bulky helmet. There was a large white skull painted on the back. I swallowed hard. I might not have known much but I knew enough to know that the logo was only associated with one thing in Logan County. The Dark Souls, a popular M/C organization that more or less ran the town.
They were what my father once revered as the real deal but that didn’t mean he would approve of me associating with a member.
“Put it on,” the man urged, starting up his bike with a loud roar that tore me from my thoughts.
I eyed it nervously and swallowed hard. I wasn’t the type of girl who threw caution to the wind and straddled the back of a motorcycle. But even though I was nervous, I didn't feel comfortable taking his only protection. Not when he would be the one driving. How ironic, I thought. Here I was being more or less kidnapped and instead of putting up a fight, I felt a strange need to protect my captor. It was definitely the nurse in me.
I shook my head and tried to hand the helmet back to him. “I can’t take that,” I insisted. “You’re the one driving. You should wear it.”
The man looked at me as though I had told a joke and shook his head, his dark eyes warm and intense against my face. “Sweetheart,” he began. “Look at me and look at you.”
As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. I stood as still as I could manage and allowed him to slide the helmet over my thick red hair. Then, as quickly as he had swept me from the bar, we were off.
It was absolutely electrifying. I pressed my protected head against his back, balling my tiny hands into tight fists against his rock hard abdomen. I was sure that if I moved it would be the end of me. We were on the freeway now, going at least seventy in a fifty zone. One wrong move and I could be dead. We both could be.
That’s how it felt anyway.
It was then that I learned his name. I don't know how I hadn't spotted it before. It was patched into the back of his jacket beneath the same white skull symbol that was on his helmet.
Liam Walker.
I ran my finger over it as he drove onto an exit ramp, veering quickly to the right. A thick wave of déjà vu began to settle over me. I had heard that name before. I just wasn't sure where.
Had my father known him? I wondered. There was definitely a chance. At his healthiest, he was one of the most gifted bike mechanics in all of Logan County. One local club, the Reapers, even honored him with his own honorary cut.
Yes, I decided. My father had to have been the link between this Liam Walker and I. It was the only thing that made sense. But it still didn’t change the fact that I had no idea what he wanted from me.
A few miles down the road he pulled into an abandoned looking parking lot and skidded to a stop near a patch of trees as gravel and dirt flew around us.
I recognized the place almost immediately. It was my father's old body shop. The first one he ever started. The pieces were beginning to come together little by little. Liam’s intentions still weren't entirely clear to me but at least I knew they had something to do with my father.
I removed his helmet and set it on the seat of his bike, watching as he paced and spit into the distance, smearing it into the ground with the heel of his boot. It was getting dark out. If I wasn't back to my dorm soon Holly would begin to worry even more than I was sure she already was.
“What is this?” I finally found it in myself to ask. “What are we doing here?”
But Liam didn't say a world. It was almost as though he hadn't heard me at all. I watched on uneasily as he approached the abandoned building, shaking a large metal lock attached to the front door. Realizing that his efforts were futile, he wiped a bit of
When we got outside he approached a jet black Harley and handed me his bulky helmet. There was a large white skull painted on the back. I swallowed hard. I might not have known much but I knew enough to know that the logo was only associated with one thing in Logan County. The Dark Souls, a popular M/C organization that more or less ran the town.
They were what my father once revered as the real deal but that didn’t mean he would approve of me associating with a member.
“Put it on,” the man urged, starting up his bike with a loud roar that tore me from my thoughts.
I eyed it nervously and swallowed hard. I wasn’t the type of girl who threw caution to the wind and straddled the back of a motorcycle. But even though I was nervous, I didn't feel comfortable taking his only protection. Not when he would be the one driving. How ironic, I thought. Here I was being more or less kidnapped and instead of putting up a fight, I felt a strange need to protect my captor. It was definitely the nurse in me.
I shook my head and tried to hand the helmet back to him. “I can’t take that,” I insisted. “You’re the one driving. You should wear it.”
The man looked at me as though I had told a joke and shook his head, his dark eyes warm and intense against my face. “Sweetheart,” he began. “Look at me and look at you.”
As much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. I stood as still as I could manage and allowed him to slide the helmet over my thick red hair. Then, as quickly as he had swept me from the bar, we were off.
It was absolutely electrifying. I pressed my protected head against his back, balling my tiny hands into tight fists against his rock hard abdomen. I was sure that if I moved it would be the end of me. We were on the freeway now, going at least seventy in a fifty zone. One wrong move and I could be dead. We both could be.
That’s how it felt anyway.
It was then that I learned his name. I don't know how I hadn't spotted it before. It was patched into the back of his jacket beneath the same white skull symbol that was on his helmet.
Liam Walker.
I ran my finger over it as he drove onto an exit ramp, veering quickly to the right. A thick wave of déjà vu began to settle over me. I had heard that name before. I just wasn't sure where.
Had my father known him? I wondered. There was definitely a chance. At his healthiest, he was one of the most gifted bike mechanics in all of Logan County. One local club, the Reapers, even honored him with his own honorary cut.
Yes, I decided. My father had to have been the link between this Liam Walker and I. It was the only thing that made sense. But it still didn’t change the fact that I had no idea what he wanted from me.
A few miles down the road he pulled into an abandoned looking parking lot and skidded to a stop near a patch of trees as gravel and dirt flew around us.
I recognized the place almost immediately. It was my father's old body shop. The first one he ever started. The pieces were beginning to come together little by little. Liam’s intentions still weren't entirely clear to me but at least I knew they had something to do with my father.
I removed his helmet and set it on the seat of his bike, watching as he paced and spit into the distance, smearing it into the ground with the heel of his boot. It was getting dark out. If I wasn't back to my dorm soon Holly would begin to worry even more than I was sure she already was.
“What is this?” I finally found it in myself to ask. “What are we doing here?”
But Liam didn't say a world. It was almost as though he hadn't heard me at all. I watched on uneasily as he approached the abandoned building, shaking a large metal lock attached to the front door. Realizing that his efforts were futile, he wiped a bit of
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