ChapterOne
His girl’sthroaty rumble filled his ears and got his pulse pounding.
It had been a while since she’d been between his legs. He’d missed straddling her. Riding her hard. Pushing her to her limits.
She had it all. Power, gorgeous lines and ball-tightening speed.
Some men his age went out and bought a Corvette. Some, like him, preferred a ride that would spike his blood pressure and make him feel alive. One that hugged curves taken at high speeds.
His ex, Sasha, might have won his prized Harley in the divorce, but he won his freedom.
The second the ink was dry on the divorce papers, he took the money he had left, rushed down to the local Harley-Davidson dealership and signed his name again. This time on a pink slip for something that would help him get over that painful mess.
A Harley-Davidson FXDR 114 with a custom black and silver paint job to match his salt-and-pepper hair. He also added a custom seat so he could take one of the kids for a spin.
Not that they clamored to ride with dear old dad.
But if they ever did…
His girl, aptly named Silver Foxy, had a top speed of 160 mph and was capable of going zero-to-sixty in less than three seconds flat.
Not that he’d tested it.
At least not that often.
He’d lucked out. Today had been the perfect weather to take a long scenic ride to the DEA offices outside of Pittsburgh, since he’d been jonesing to get his girl out of the garage once winter decided to fuck off. He only hoped it stayed away, but in early April the weather could go either way.
Boiling hot one day, snowstorm the next.
Mother Nature was so unpredictable, she must’ve bought meth from the Demons.
Hopefully with spring arriving, Finn, as the BAMC road captain, would start scheduling monthly or bi-weekly runs. Crew was ready to take to the open road with his brothers.
It would also be good for Nox to get out on his bike, too. That was after they cornered him first for the intervention Axel Jamison had scheduled. Finding the time to get almost all the BAMC members together had been tough since everyone worked different hours and shifts.
But to Jamison—and the rest of them—doing the intervention was priority since Nox needed a little tough love right now and no one was better to do it than his fellow Blue Avengers who considered him family.
Crew found a parking spot occupied with another motorcycle and crab-walked Foxy in reverse next to it before shutting her down.
After sliding off his half-helmet, he hooked it over one side of the handlebars, scraped his fingers through his short hair and threw his leg over. Once his feet were on solid ground, he reached for the sky and arched his back in an attempt to loosen his tight muscles, all while groaning.
Even though he was only in his early forties, that ride alone left him sore and aching. An unnecessary reminder that getting old sucked.
Twenty years ago, he could’ve done backflips all the way into the DEA field office. Today, there might be a bit of a hitch in his step.
Damn, his bladder was also reminding him that it no longer liked to be full.
He hoofed it toward the building so he could take care of his personal business before heading to his superior’s office to deal with official Tri-State Federal Drug Task Force business.
As he reached to pull open the reflective-glass door, it swung outward, and a whirlwind slammed right into him. Even though the woman was petite and about a foot shorter than him, the impact still knocked him back a step before he got his feet back under him and grabbed her by the elbow to set her straight, too.
“Jesus, watch where you’re going!”
Her dark brown eyes narrowed on him and she pulled her elbow from his grip. “I could tell you the same.”
She checked him out as he did the same.
Her well-fitted gray dress pants with a matching blazer emphasized her slender frame. Under the jacket was a lapel-collared white shirt that contrasted with her tawny complexion that reminded him of Rez’s. That meant she was either really into tanning or her skin tone came naturally.