STORY EXCERPT

“You done with your break?” Lonnie asked as he joined Garrett outside, his expression cheerful until he saw who Garrett was looking at. He knew Lonnie was watching him watch Falcon. He cringed inside, knowing his best friend had something to say. “I’ve warned you. It isn’t healthy for you to ogle him like that.”

“I’m just taking a break.” Garrett leaned his hip against the black railing, smoking a cigarette that he knew he shouldn’t have, as he watched the men across the street. He knew that if they caught him staring that it would probably get him jumped—he shuddered—or worse.

“You really do like living dangerously,” Lonnie said as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s only going to bring you trouble, hon.”

His best friend was only saying that because those men, with their patched leather jackets and ambiguous looks, were the notorious Dark Riders—the roughest, meanest, baddest biker gang in the Lower East Side of Paradise City.

“I don’t like living dangerously,” he defended. “They’re just great eye candy when I’m out here.”

“Eye candy?” Lonnie repeated with incredulousness. “I wouldn’t exactly use the word candy when talking about them. I highly doubt there is anything sweet about those men. They are more liable to give you a root canal with a pair of pliers than melt in your mouth.”

Garrett wrinkled his nose at Lonnie’s graphic analogy. But the man was right. And yet, beyond all reason and sanity, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the one man who had fascinated him since the gang showed up in town six months ago.

The president, Falcon, was cocky, with long, satin-black hair that ran down his back and deadly looks—gorgeous, but deadly. The man’s tenebrous expression reminded Garrett of an ancient warrior—the kind that were clad in barely anything but looked powerful and strong. There was something about the president that drew Garrett’s attention every time he saw them pull up in front of the Dirty Hole, a bar that catered to motorcycle clubs.

“I’ve always wondered what happens in that bar,” Lonnie said offhandedly as he leaned on the opposite rail, crossing his booted ankles. “I wonder if they have wing night.”

Garrett’s brows furrowed as he stared at Lonnie. “You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Not even the cops will go in there and you want to know… You’re insane.”

Lonnie’s sweet laugh was low as he patted Garrett on his back. “I may be warning you to stay away from that bunch, but that doesn’t mean you can’t live a little. You have to do things that make your heart pound, Rett. Things that make you feel alive.”

Lonnie was the only person who called him Rett. He liked it. The short man was a sweet guy and they had been friends since forever. Lonnie’s complexion was a café au lait coloring that made him look like he had a tan year-round, but what really drew attention was the color of his eyes. They were a very pale green, giving him an exotic look that most men and women went crazy over.

But Lonnie was a good guy. He may work in a tattoo shop, but he wasn’t hard-core like most of the people that hung around. He was sweet, but had one hell of a temper if provoked.

Lonnie also liked to dress…uniquely. He was currently wearing knee-high platform boots that Garrett knew were ordered from the women’s section online. Not that they looked girlie. Lonnie just complained that the men’s selection wasn’t as interesting. They had eight metal plate straps with chunky buckles that ran down each side of the boots, and a high, thick heel that made him three inches taller than his original five foot six.

He was also wearing something called Freak Pants. One leg was black and the other was black-and-white checkered. There was a zipper on each thigh. The pants even had a pocket on either side of Lonnie’s knees, right where the boots ended. His shirt was black and sleeveless, with pressure buttons and metal D rings that were attached to two lines of webbing.

That was one of the things he loved about his best friend. Lonnie was never afraid to be himself.

“I’ll give you ten bucks if you go over there and find out if they have wing night.” Garrett turned, pressing his ass into the rail, giving his friend a challenging look.

“Okay.”

“Whoa.” Garrett grabbed Lonnie right above his spiked wristlet. “I was just kidding. Are you nuts?”

Tossing his blond dreads over his shoulder, Lonnie smirked at him. “I was just trying to prove a point. It is nuts to go over there. So stop ogling those men.”

He knew he needed to give up his lustful dreams of belonging to Falcon. The man was the president of the Dark Riders. Falcon would cut Garrett’s balls from his body if the guy caught the longing looks he wasn’t trying too hard to hide, and honestly, didn’t want to hide.

Lonnie slid his arm into Garrett’s, pulling him back toward the door of Andromeda, the tattoo shop they co-owned together. “Let’s get inside before they spot you ogling them and decide you would look good over a spit.”

Reluctantly, Garrett allowed Lonnie to drag him back toward the door. Just as Garrett was about to turn, he noticed Falcon looking his way, watching him with those enigmatic sable eyes. His heart thumped wildly in his chest and he found it hard to breathe as he wondered what had happened to prompt the president’s attention toward him. Falcon stared at him for a hair’s breadth, and then he slid his mirrored sunglasses into place before he looked away and began to talk to the man sitting next to him.

“Oh hell,” Lonnie said as he yanked harder. “Get inside, Rett.”

Resisting the urge to glance across the street one last time, Garrett went back inside Andromeda. It wouldn’t do him any good to get caught staring at Falcon a second time. The Dark Riders were men without mercy and who wouldn’t hesitate to end his life—at least, that’s what the rumors said that were buzzing through the city about these men.

ADULT EXCERPT

Garrett became wide eyed when Falcon moved in fast, taking his mouth in a frenzied kiss. All the chaotic emotions that he had been feeling inside abruptly became too much to contain. Garrett threw his arms around Falcon’s neck, molesting the man with his lips and tongue.

Ironically, it was Falcon who pulled back and told Garrett to slow down. He was panting heavily, staring at Falcon’s kiss-swollen lips and wanting another taste…like now. It scared the hell out of him when he felt a growl rip from his chest. Garrett slapped a hand over his mouth as Falcon’s eyes widened for a split second before they turned smoky and sensual. “Do that again.”

Garrett shook his head.

Falcon moved back in, his voice softened and it stirred an alarming yearning inside Garrett. “Do. That. Again.” It was a heart-stopping challenge. His voice was thick with approval and desire.

“I’m not even sure what I did,” Garrett confessed when he removed his hand from his mouth.

Falcon brushed his knuckles over Garrett’s flushed cheeks. “Your wolf wants me.”

His head began to spin as Garrett felt dizzy. Wolf. Falcon had said wolf. Yeah, Garrett would have one of those now since he had gone through a conversion. But to hear Falcon say it the way he did made it feel bizarre and surreal to know this.

Falcon’s smile was an erotic invitation. “Then, if you won’t do it again, finish undressing.”

“What about you?” Garrett asked, still reeling from his growl.

Falcon tore his shirt over his head, bent and undid his boots, tossing the heavy things aside, and then relieved himself of his jeans. He stood there like a sex god who had come to earth to play with Garrett.

And Garrett wanted to play.

A sizzling, predatory glimmer sparked in Falcon’s eyes as Garrett finished undressing. As soon as he divested his last piece of clothing, Falcon was on him. The man picked Garrett up and he had no choice but to wrap his legs around Falcon’s lean waist. The desire in Falcon’s eyes was beautiful and mysterious, and Garrett wanted him so badly it was physically painful.

Garrett was in a world unfamiliar to him, clinging to a man who promised to charter him through. Since meeting Falcon—actually meeting him, not just gawking at the man—Garrett had felt like he’d fallen down the rabbit hole into a scary world where logical rules no longer applied.

It was exciting and scary and he wasn’t sure what to do. But one thing was for sure…he was getting another piece of Falcon, his fantasy come to life.

Garrett ran his hand over Falcon’s upper back and shivered uncontrollably when Falcon responded with gentle touches and soft caresses over his hips. He moved until he had Garrett’s back against the wall, his lips feathering over Garrett’s naked shoulder.

Garrett’s head hit the wall, not hard, as he moaned and let his head tilt to the side to give Falcon more room to play. The man’s cock was wedged between his cheeks, hot and throbbing as his fingers gripped Garrett’s waist.

“I want to be inside you so badly.” Falcon almost growled the words against Garrett’s shoulder. The man reached over the cabinet they were situated next to and grabbed a small jar from the shelf. As wound up as he was, Garrett was still curious and turned his head to look.

It was petroleum jelly Garrett had left there months ago when his lips were chapped.

“How did you know it was there?”

Falcon shrugged but didn’t answer.

His lover set the jar back on the shelf and the next thing Garrett knew, slick fingers were probing at his hole.

His desires renewed as his fingers gripped Falcon’s shoulder’s, his body gyrating as Falcon slipped a long, thick finger inside of him before he recaptured Garrett’s lips.

“Perfect.” There was a dangerous purr to his voice that sent a shiver through Garrett. He could feel the stretched muscles and Falcon’s hard body. The man smelled richly masculine, wild, and delicious. Garrett was falling under the man’s spell, deeper with every kiss, every thrust of the man’s finger, and the intoxicating aroma that was filling the room.

“What is that?” Garrett gasped as Falcon inserted a second finger, stretching the two apart and moving them around in the most provocative way. He had smelled the spice-and-sweet scent moments ago, but he could no longer ignore the aromatic fragrance.

“You smell my arousal,” he said as he bit down gently on Garrett’s shoulder.

God, Garrett could bathe in that scent. Never before had he smelled anything so tantalizing, so musky and alluring. Garrett melted into his strong chest, his body going lax as Falcon pulled him impossibly closer and traced Garrett’s vein in his neck with his tongue. It was throbbing wildly at what Falcon was doing to him.

Falcon caught Garrett’s earlobe between his teeth as he inserted a third finger, making Garrett groan louder, filling the room with the sounds of his needs. Falcon’s chest rumbled deeply as he pulled his hand free and then adjusted Garrett a little higher before Garrett was lowered onto Falcon’s thick cock.

The breath rushed from his lungs as his hands tightened around Falcon’s neck, his head lolling to the side as they both groaned in pleasure. Falcon sealed his lips over Garrett’s, giving him a lush, wet kiss as his hips began to move, to thrust upward, driving his cock deeper and making Garrett lose his goddamn mind. He gave Garrett’s lips a slow, savoring lick as Garrett ran his hand through Falcon’s long, silky-black hair.

“So perfect,” he murmured. His hands cupped Garrett’s ass, squeezing his cheeks as his cock pulled back and then slid forward. The slow fucking was driving Garrett mad.