Page 44 of Texting the Wrong Bikers

“Describe them immediately.”

I groan but do it anyway because, honestly, talking to Dani always makes things feel less catastrophic somehow. “Well…” I stare vaguely into space. “Dash is annoyingly pretty. Blond hair, blue eyes, movie star smile, chiseled jawline. He’s super confident and flirty. You know the type, he knows he’s attractive.”

“The worst kind,” Dani says knowingly. “Yet we women can’t resist.”

“The absolute worst kind.” I bite back a smile despite myself. “He’s funny though.”

“Mhm.”

“Chief’s the vice president of the Wild Riders.”

Dani cuts me off. “Wait, you didn’t tell me the club’s name was the Wild Riders?” she cackles. “Oh, I’ll bet they’ll give you a wild ride!”

“Do you want me to describe them or not?”

“Sorry,” she giggles. “Continue.”

“Chief’s big, not as tall as Kane, but at least six-two, he’s got a football player build, and a beard.”

“Ooh, rugged and manly, like a lumberjack, and the boss. A sugar daddy.”

“He’s probably like thirty-five, hardly sugar daddy age.”

“You don’t need to be older to give ‘fuck me daddy’ vibes.”

I snort softly. “He is very…” I exhale. “In control.”

“I knew it!”

“But he’s also calm, steady, someone who takes charge. It’s… nice.” The word feels futile to explain how his taking control made me feel safe and protected.

“Okay, you’re already into him.”

“No, I’m not,” the protest comes a little too quickly.

“You used your soft voice.”

I hate that she knows me that well. I quickly move on. “Shadow is the quiet one. He has a scar on his cheek—”

“Ooh, hot, love a bad boy,” she interrupts.

Heat creeps higher into my cheeks. “He’s intense.”

“Hot intense?” I can practically hear Dani waggling her eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“Murdery intense?”

“…Also, yes. But it’s a different kind of dangerous compared to Kane.” I lean against the kitchen counter, thinking about how Kane lifted me onto it last night.

Dani laughs delightedly. “And, what’s Kane like?” she asks more softly. “Other than being sexy enough to make you give up your celibacy.” Of course, the first thing she demanded to know was whether or not we’d hooked up. I’d quickly changed the subject, telling her about the bombshell I’d discovered first, but there’s no way she’s going to let me get away with not sharing the juicy details of last night.

I don’t know how to describe him. Kane isn’t abstract anymore. I know what he tastes like, what he sounds like when he loses control. How warm his skin felt against mine all night. Heat blooms low in my stomach.

“Kane is…” I start with a sigh.

“Oh, my God.”