Page 34 of Rider Daddies
“I don’t know,” Ryder says. “Got me.”
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that motorcyclists know how to make great coffee, given that they’re running on caffeine and rage most of the time throughout the day.
They all rushed out this morning, disappearing—literally—into a cloud of smoke.
Which means I can now drink my coffee in peace.
I keep the mug over my face, peering over the lip at the brothers as they chat about something that seems to be pulling at their last nerve.
“…Are you sure it’s not possible?”
The biker with the computer shakes his head. “Either it’s purely coincidental, or the fucker secretly planted something on her.”
I tear my eyes away when they all turn to look at me.
They push up from their seats and walk over to me. I bite my lip, getting the sudden urge to clamp my thighs together.
Let a girl drink her morning coffee first before getting her soaked through her panties.
They stride over toward me like walking sex, their auras oozing gasoline and pheromones, all of the good stuff.
This is why it confuses me that they’re reluctant to have four-way with me. They never do anything in isolation, always walking around in a three.
Not to worry.
I broke them last night.
I can break them again.
“Ciao,Jonas Brothers.”
They clearly haven’t had their morning coffee yet.
“Give me your hand,” orders Ash.
“Why? You gonna force a wedding ring onto it?”
I can practically see the steam coming out of their ears.
“It was a joke…”
Do these guys not do jokes? Do biker personalities not stretch past wild sex and cash-in-hand murder?
Ryder gives me a strained look, telling me to knock it off.
I sigh, setting the mug of coffee down. “Fine.” I offer them my hand. “What’s up?”
Ash yanks it toward him, tracing a rough thumb and finger over my palm. He moves to the back of my hand, forearm, elbow.
“If you want to get your hands on me, all you need to do is say so. I just ask that you let me brush my teeth first to get rid of the coffee breath.”
“Nothing’s up,” Ash says, completely ignoring my comment.
Saint keeps his eyes stapled on me. “Try the other.”
Ash takes my other hand without asking, pressing down every inch of my skin the same way he did with the other.
He comes to a halt at the top part of my arm, feeling something hard.
