Page 35 of Biker Daddies

Smiling, I grab my purse, and he opens the car door for me to get out.

God, he looks good today. He’s wearing a tight black Vultures Ink shirt with black jeans. His arms are swirls of American traditional tattoos and they disappear under his shirt sleeves. I’ve had so many dirty thoughts because of those tattoos. I want to kiss them and trace them with my tongue.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says low, causing an ache to form between my legs.

“Hey,” I reply, half-dazed as if I’m drugged by his presence.

I need to get a grip.

“It’s good to see you. You look good.”

I watch as his eyes roam down my body and I must be mistaken because there is no way Alto is checking me out.

“I really like your hair like this,” he says, twirling a red curl around his finger.

I become shy as I look down from his eyes. “I didn’t have time to do anything to it. I usually have it straight.”

“I know. I like it like this. All wild and unkept. It’s sexy.”

Sexy.

I hold in a whimper. I can’t believe he just said that to me.

“So, um.” I clear my throat. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Come in the shop. We have a few hours cleared.” He doesn’t wait for me to reply as he turns around and starts to walk around to the front of the shop.

He stops and turns around when he notices I’m not following him. “You coming?”

Yes, because I’m an idiot. I feel like I’m walking into the lion’s den. Am I going to get treated like a child? I’ll be furious if they try that on me. I know I’m a lot younger and don’t have as much experience in life, but I won’t stand for being treated that way.

I follow after him with a pep in my step because Alto could order me to do anything and I’d probably do it. I’m a sucker.

The bell above the door jingles as we enter, pictures of all their artwork hang on the wall along with awards and conventions they have been to. They even have a few pictures of celebrities that have come here just so they can get tattooed by one of the guys.

“Wow. This place takes my breath away every time I step inside it,” I say, walking to the nearest wall to look at Bane’s artwork. His is darker, twisted, and done in shades of black and gray. I think it’s sad because I see these drawings and it isn’t hard to understand that these are his emotions. This is how he feels all the time. He’s stuck in darkness and in shades of gray.

My knees hit a black leather couch where people sit and wait, skimming through the flashes of artwork to decide what’s best for them.

“It really is mind-blowing how talented you three are.” I move to another wall, only this one is dedicated to Colt. His art is very different from Bane’s. It’s bright and colorful, a bit cartoonish, with more realistic pieces.

And then there’s Alto’s wall. It’s all-American traditional style. Pinup girls are everywhere, mermaids, ships, panthers, and I love them all.

“Thank you,” Alto says, locking the door behind him, then lowering the blinds.

My smile slips from my face and I swallow. “Is this where you kill me?” I’m only half-kidding, but these are dangerous bikers, and I don’t know what to think.

He snorts. “No. We only want privacy.”

The way he says that has my body reacting to him in places it shouldn’t.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” Colt greets, wiping his hands on a towel as he leans his hip against the counter and grins at me.

“Uh.” I glance around. “I’m confused.” I feel trapped with no way out. I want to run. They are acting differently.

“What’s there to be confused about, Princess?” Bane’s voice causes me to jump, and I swallow, staring at all three men.

No one should be allowed to look as good as these three look. How did each of them score in the looks department? There’s Bane, all broody and secretive with his tattoos and scowl, then Colt with his charming smile, but then there’s Alto.

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