The Biker’s Obsession
He didn't lift his head up from his drink, but his strong fingers dug deeper into my hip through the fabric of my jeans, anchoring me to his seat as Siren stopped right in front of us, the bright orange flames of the fire casting long, dancing shadows across her lethal face.
“You are looking mighty comfortable over there in the dark, Stone,” Siren said smoothly, her smoky voice carrying over the sound of the music. She ignored my presence completely, keeping her sharp green eyes locked straight onto the President’s rugged profile. “I was just talking to some of the boys about the big motorcycle race we are holding down at the old valley track tomorrow morning. The Vipers are putting up a tho