Todos los capítulos de Her Biker Bodyguard: Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 150

ConnellI knock on Dolores's door, running a hand over my shaved head. The morning sun streams through the clubhouse windows, catching on the chrome of the bikes outside. When she opens up, my breath catches - even in simple jeans and a worn Metallica shirt, she's gorgeous."Morning, sunshine. Ready to learn how to handle something with real power between your legs?"She chokes on her coffee, seemingly caught off guard by the comment. She pulls herself together and rolls her eyes but grins. "I'm sorry, just curious if that line has actually ever worked on anyone?""You'd be surprised." I lean against her doorframe. "Seriously though, thought today might be good for your first lesson. Weather's perfect, roads are quiet.""Give me five to grab my jacket." She disappears back into her room."Bring those boots too," I call after her. "The ones with the good ankle support.""Yes, teacher," she sings out sarcastically.I chuckle, watching her gather her things. She emerges with a leather ja

ConnellBack at the clubhouse, Dolores looks like she’s been through a war. Her eyes are red, her face pale. I can see the shock and sadness swimming in her hazel eyes.“Connell,” she starts, her voice shaking, “I don’t know how to thank you.”“Don’t worry about it, Dolores. I’m just glad you’re okay,” I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.“No, really. You saved the Chevelle. That car... it’s like a piece of him.” She pauses, her voice cracking. “And you saved me too. If we’d been at the house...”I shake my head, cutting her off. “Let’s not think about what could’ve happened.”She gives a small nod and takes a deep breath. “I want you to have his bike.”“What?” I ask, taken aback.“The Chieftan, the one you rode back here,” she clarifies. “It should go to someone who’ll appreciate it. And I’m more of a rider than a driver anyway.”I scratch the back of my neck, feeling the weight of her offer. “Dolores, I can’t take your dad’s bike. It’s yours.”“No,” she insists, her ton

VincentMy phone buzzes and Connell's panicked voice fills my ear. "Boss, we got a problem."I ain't got the time for games Connell, what's going on?" I say irritatingly."First let me preface this by saying please don't put me back on oil change duty…" Connell starts."Cut the shit Wilson, what is it?""Uh see, Dolores took off while I was on the phone with you." He says sheepishly. I can picture him rubbing his shaved ass head from here."What the fuck do you mean she took off?" The leather of my grip creaks against the handlebars of my bike."She said she was going to make a sandwich. Next thing I know, the Chevelle's peeling out of the lot.""Jesus Christ." I kick my bike to life. "She's headed to the house. Stubborn like her damn Dad. Stay put in case she comes back.""But-""That's an order." I end the call and tear through the streets, weaving between cars.Much faster than it legally takes to get there, the burned-out shell of James's house comes into view. I park two blocks a

DoloresMy body responds eagerly to every touch as he continues stroking himself with one hand while the other roams over my skin possessively. The tension builds between us until it feels like we're both going to explode from the sheer intensity of it all."You're mine," Vincent murmurs against my lips before pulling back slightly to look into my eyes again. "Say it.""I'm yours," I whisper back without hesitation.His grip tightens on my hip as he lines himself up against me, teasing me with just the tip. "That's right," he growls softly before thrusting forward and filling me completely in one swift motion.A gasp escapes me at the sensation but Vincent doesn't give me time to adjust before setting a relentless pace that leaves me clinging onto him for dear life."Keep those eyes on me," he commands again through gritted teeth as pleasure washes over both of us in waves so intense they threaten to drown us both completely.Vincent sets a punishing pace, each thrust sending shockwav

DoloresThe throbbing in my head pulls me from darkness. My mouth feels like cotton, and there's a metallic taste lingering on my tongue. I try to piece together what happened, but everything's fuzzy. The last clear memory I have is curling up with my book, taking a sip of Coke, and...nothing.My eyes flutter open to unfamiliar surroundings. The room is dim, lit only by a small window near the ceiling. The walls are concrete, and there's a musty smell that makes my nose wrinkle. This cot is something they wouldn't subject a fucking prisoner too. This definitely isn't my room at the clubhouse."Shit," I mutter, attempting to sit up. The clinking of metal stops me cold. Looking down, I see heavy shackles around my ankles, connected to a thick chain bolted to the wall. My heart pounds against my ribs as reality sets in.I examine the restraints with my paramedic's eye, assessing for any weakness. They're industrial grade, no quick escape there. The chain gives me about six feet of moveme