Page 7 of Sophia, Property of Tracker

Clearing my throat, my hands reach the hem of my top and lift it over my head. Letting it fall to the floor, I watch as Ryan falls back against my bedroom wall, crossing his arms over his wide chest. He licks his lips.

Slowly, my fingers shift to the waistband of my jeans and undo the button, then unzip them.

RYAN

Past

Could she be any more goddamn perfect? Fuck me!

This chick has me doing shit I don’t have time to do. My day was supposed to go like this.

Drive through Vixen Falls, make a stop, and ask about my brother, Tate. When I got no answers, I planned to head straight down to New York and begin my next search there. But when she asked me to have lunch with her, I couldn’t resist saying yes.

If I were being honest, I’d noticed Sophia the minute I walked through the door of the café. Her long blonde hair, sophisticated look, and gorgeous blue eyes had me from the moment I walked in and she looked up at me. It took every strength in my body to hold back from talking to her and asking her name. I convinced myself I had no time to socialize with the beautiful girl, so I ignored the pull I felt toward her and asked the lady behind the counter if she had seen Tate.

The waitress seemed to like what she saw because instead of looking at the photograph of Tate I had shown her, her eyes were glued to me dreamily.

I know when a woman wants me. Shit, I get this all the time. However, being here isn’t about me—I don’t have time to mess around with women. However, I can’t get the blonde-haired beauty out of my mind. I know she’s sitting behind me, and I’m trying desperately not to look at her. No, I have a job to do, and that is to find my only brother, Tate. A brother who ran out without a word and hasn’t been seen in two weeks.

Rumor has it that he’s bunked up with a biker gang, something Tate has always wanted to do, and on several occasions, I had convinced him otherwise. I mean, I am an FBI agent, and I bring down biker gangs on a regular basis.

I can’t let my brother get caught up in a biker life. From what I’ve seen, they all run illegal activities, anything from drug smuggling to guns. Fuck! Even trafficking women. No. From what I know and have seen with my own eyes, bikers are best off the streets and locked away in prison cells.

I aim to find Tate and hope that the rumors I’d heard weren’t true. But if for some reason they were, I was going to do everything in my power to change his mind and get him back home and on track.

Growing up as a child, it was only ever Tate, my mom, and me. Mom tried her best as a single parent to look after us, but there were times we were alone in the middle of the night because she had to take an extra shift to support us.

So when I turned fifteen, I became the man of the house. I left school to get a job and worked on the docks with fishing boats, unloading their catch of the day and transporting the fish to the weighing shed where all the packing happens.

It was a tough gig and meant I was up in the early hours of the morning when I should have been fast asleep. But it got the money I needed to help Mom with the house payments, so we didn’t find ourselves out on the street.

When I turned twenty, I decided I wanted to be a police officer. So I trained hard to make it into the academy, and it wasn’t long before I was on the streets helping to bring the bad guys down.

I worked all the time, did overtime when available, and lost myself in my career. I was one of the youngest in the team to be promoted to detective, leading to my working as an FBI agent.

It was then that I met Riley. Riley was like a breath of fresh air that came into my life. She was a detective, and we worked on cases together. We had built a life for ourselves, and in my eyes, I had settled down with a woman whom I loved.

At that time, I neglected Tate, I wasn’t in contact with him as much as I would have liked because I was busy working, and when I wasn’t, I was with Riley. I blame myself for not looking out for Tate the way I should have. I became so busy in my career and relationship that I lost touch with Tate.

Sure, I visited him any chance I got, but most of the time, he was never home. My mom would explain that he’d gone out on his stupid motorcycle, which my mom never approved of.

I have one too, and I take it out for a ride any chance I get. I’d choose a motorcycle over a car any day. There’s just something about riding—the fresh air hitting your face, the open road, and the rumble of the bike between your thighs.

Tate was out most nights getting drunk with friends and lost his job as a mechanic because he was always turning up late. He was heading down the wrong side of the tracks.

So when my mom called me to say Tate hadn’t been back for two weeks, I went into panic mode. It wasn’t like him to go off the radar without calling Mom to tell her where he was.

Mom had explained that Tate’s clothes were gone, and he wasn’t answering her calls. She was frantically crying, worried that something had happened to him, and I promised her I would do everything I could to find him.

I was pissed off that he let Mom worry with no word from him. She didn’t deserve that—the least he could do was pick up the damn phone.

Fuck, that seems like weeks ago, but it’s only been a couple of days.

Coming back to the present, I watch as Sophia undresses in front of me, giving me a glimpse of her hot-as-fuck body.

When I met her back at the café, it wasn’t just her beauty that drew me to her, but it was the fact that she was smart and I could have a conversation with her. There’s something about her that kept me from leaving. I like that she’s witty but at the same time blushes when she’s embarrassed.

Before I knew it, I’d checked into a hotel, showered, and was waiting for the time that I would see her again. I craved to be next to her, kissing her, fucking her, and at the same time, hoping that she wanted the same thing.

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