Page 4 of Maverick

Nova nudged me. “Smutty, don’t freak out, but that group of bikers is staring at us.” She gestured subtly with her chin to a knot of rough-looking men near a tent that boastedIce-Cold Tequila Shots.

Sure enough, they were eyeing us like fresh meat. One of them, a lanky guy with a shaved head, flicked his gaze up and down my body. I fought the urge to shrink back.

“Hey there, jailbait,” the shaved-headed guy said, stepping forward with a grin that showed off tobacco-stained teeth. “Want to ride this hog?” The biker grabbed his crotch.

My mouth went dry.

Nova, apparently bolder, spoke up. “We’re over eighteen, shithead.”

“Just looking for someone,” I said, as if it would erase her insult.

“We can help you find what you need,” another man leered, his eyes roaming over Nova’s legs.

“Thanks, but we’re good.” I tried to keep my voice steady and firm.

The skinhead barked a laugh. “No need to be shy. Stick around. We’ll show you a good time.”

Nova grabbed my hand, and we attempted to move along. But the men closed in, weaving around us, offering drinks and asking all kinds of intrusive questions.

“Are you a real blonde?” they asked Nova. “Does the carpet match the drapes?”

My discomfort skyrocketed. I tried to be polite, but they weren’t taking the hint.

One of them with a thick braided beard nudged the other before he got too close to me.

I stiffened. “Don’t touch me.”

Somehow, we kept walking. “Let’s grab some water. I’m about to pass out.”

We found a vendor selling bottled water and took a moment to chug it. Another biker gang rolled by, checking us out like we were a side of beef.

One of them, a tall mountain of a man with a scraggly mustache and stained shirt, smirked at me. “Look at the fresh faces. You looking for a man, sweetheart?”

Nova stepped forward, ever the bold one. “We’re not taking applications.”

“Feisty. I like it. The feisty ones are fun to break.”

Then his gaze latched onto me. His eyes raked over my curves, lingering on the exposed skin at my waist. I tried to keep my cool, but something about his stare made my skin crawl. “We’re busy,” I said curtly, turning away.

“Bet she’s real smooth under that leather. Nowadays, these young thangs always shave their snatch bald.”

Turning, I crossed my arms. Fuming, I was feeling brave, brave enough to fuck with him. “Really? I guess you don’t know the new trends. Full bush is back.”

Nova joined in the fun. “Yeah, full bush with accessories, just like how we do our Crocs.”

“You ladies think that’ll make my dick limp? Now,sugar puss, I’ve got to see that full bush.” The big guy reached out and gripped my vest, yanking me to him. In a motion so swift that my brain could barely register it, he yanked it down, causing my bra and breast to slip and pop out completely before the whole crowd.

I gasped, terror flashing through me. “Hey!”

Before I knew it, a blur of motion cut between us, and a large fist collided with mustache-guy’s jaw. He reeled back, stumbling into the dirt. I clutched my vest closed, eyes flying to our savior.

If mustache had been a mountain, this biker was Mount Everest. He was tall, broad shouldered, with dark hair that curled at the nape of his neck. A neatly trimmed beard framed a handsome and strong jaw, but his face looked like he’d recently been in a fight. His arms were roped with muscle, tattoos covering his forearms, one of a sad woman’s face, the other depicting a set of black wings. His leather vest readRoad Monsters MC, and the nametag over his chest saidMaverick.

“Back the fuck off,” Maverick growled at the men, his deep voice rumbling through me like thunder. “You don’t put your hands on a woman who doesn’t want it.”

The mustache guy spat dirt out of his mouth, then glared at Maverick. “Who the hell are you to…”

He didn’t finish because Maverick just lunged forward, hooking him in the gut with a punch that made the man collapse to his knees. The others muttered curses but backed away, not willing to tangle with this biker.

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