MY HOT BIKER SAVIOUR

Morning light filtered through the bedroom window, painting bruises in shades of gold. I cataloged the damage in the mirror: fingerprints on my throat, bite marks on my breasts, ribs that screamed when I breathed. Last night, Marcus had been particularly thorough in reminding me who I belonged to. The diner uniform felt like armor as I pulled it on. Six AM shift. At least Marcus would be at work, entertaining clients with that perfect smile that made everyone think he hung the moon. "Going somewhere?" I froze. He stood in the doorway, already dressed in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than I made in three months. "My shift," I whispered, eyes down. "At the diner." "About that." He crossed the room, fingers catching my chin. "I've been thinking. Maybe it's time you quit." My heart stopped. The diner was my only connection to the outside world, my only chance to squirrel away the occasional dollar he didn't know about. "But... we need the money." It was the wron

The motorcycle club's compound sprawled across three acres on the outskirts of town. By the time Ryder pulled up to the gate, my whole body was trembling—from adrenaline, from fear, from the feeling of being pressed against him for the past twenty minutes. "You're shaking." His voice was low, meant only for me. "I'm fine." But as I tried to swing my leg off the bike, my knees buckled. The world tilted. I braced for impact with the gravel, but it never came. Instead, strong arms caught me, pulling me against a solid chest. I found myself cradled in Ryder's embrace, one of his hands spanning my waist while the other supported my shoulders. Our faces were inches apart. "I've got you." His breath ghosted across my lips. "I've got you, darlin'." Time seemed to freeze. The security lights caught the silver in his eyes, turning them to liquid mercury. This close, I could see a small scar above his left eyebrow, the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pupils dilated as they droppe

The night hung heavy over Ironwood, thick and dark like a velvet curtain soaked in rain and gasoline. Outside, the storm rolled through the streets, thunder shaking windows, lightning cutting the sky into jagged pieces. But inside the Hellfire clubhouse, the storm wasn’t in the weather. It was inside me.I still felt Ryder’s touch on my skin, like a ghost—his fingers tracing invisible lines where his hands had been, a fire burning under my skin long after he’d left the rooftop.At that moment, it was just the two of us. Two broken souls tangled up in something fierce and fragile, something neither of us could walk away from.I sat on the edge of the couch in his room. The leather was cracked and worn, smelling of sweat and motor oil, but it felt safe. The dim light flickered across Ryder’s tattoos and his strong face. He watched me like he was trying to decide something. Maybe if he should cross a line or hold back.“I don’t want to scare you,” he said, voice low and rough, close

RYDER'S POVThe quiet in my room was heavy, thick like the smoke that always seemed to hang around Hellfire. I sat on the edge of my bed, the leather creaking beneath me, and stared at my hands. They looked the same as always—calloused, scarred, strong. But I wasn’t the same.Not anymore.Last night was a storm. Not the kind that roars through the city and leaves destruction in its wake. No, this storm was different. It was inside me. The way Tessa looked, the way she moved, the way she let me in. I’d never felt anything like it.I ran a hand through my hair, trying to make sense of the tangle in my chest. Hellfire was my life—the club, the brothers, the fight.But Tessa… she was something else. Something I never expected to want.The taste of her lips still lingered on mine. The feel of her skin, warm and soft beneath my hands. The way she trembled when I touched her, the way she clung to me when I finally took her. Big and wild and beautiful. My storm.I’d never been good with