Page 38 of Biker Daddies

I flinch, wondering if this is all just a joke, when Bane turns around and heads into the next room.

“Did…I do something wrong?” I whisper, trying to ignore the stab of rejection.

“No, sweetness. He’s…different. Why don’t you go to him?”

I shake my head as Colt urges me into the room where the door is closed. Bane obviously doesn’t want to see anyone.

“He doesn’t want me.”

“He does. Talk to him. You’ll understand. We’ll be out here waiting.”

Alto speaks next. “And that tattoo you want? You’ll be getting it. You’ll sit right here.” He pats the table. “And all three of us will be tattooing you.”

I nibble my bottom lip, my clit throbbing at the thought of all three of these men having their hands on me. Turning the doorknob, I find it unlocked and I swing the door open, noticing Bane leaning against the window. He stares outside, but even from here I can see the hard edge of his jaw.

He isn’t happy.

I close the door behind me and lean against it. “Is it me? Is this…not something you want? Are they only interested? It’s okay. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

He would hurt them, but not in the way he might think. I appreciate honesty, and the sooner he’s able to tell me the truth, the sooner I can move on to see what adventure lies ahead with Colt and Alto.

If there is one.

This might be a fluke for all I know.

“You?” He pushes from the wall and marches over to me. He slaps his hands on either side of the door, caging me in so I have nowhere to go. He towers over me and even as he hangs his head to glare at me, I’m drowned in his shadow. “It’s me,” he clips. “I know a woman like you would never want a man like me.”

I tilt my head back to look into his eyes, so dark, so…sad.

“I do though. I want you.” I lift my hand and press it against his cheek.

He flinches from the touch, startled, but then leans into it.

Is Bane…shy?

Big, bad, ruthless, savage, murderous Bane?

There’s no way.

“I think you’re sexy,” I tell him, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lie,” he says, the word burdened on his tongue.

“Why would you think I’m lying? Why don’t you believe me?”

He skims the very tip of his fingers down my arm, brows pinching together. “You let me touch you,” he whispers in awe.

My heart breaks for him. “I like your touch,” I say breathlessly as he leans closer.

I step onto my tiptoes and tilt my head, brushing my lips against his mouth. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t kiss me back. He stays stock-still.

“Why won’t you kiss me?”

“Don’t know how,” he admits. “Never been kissed.”

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