Page 6 of Biker Daddy's Girl
And God, what a woman she is.
"So what does she look like?" he asks, and it almost pisses me off. I don't want to share Emma with anyone, even if it's just describing her.
Ah, hell. What's wrong with me? This is my crew. No one would try to take a girl out from under me.
Still, I'm not going to give Gunnar the full rundown of the most gorgeous fucking girl I've ever seen, either.
"She's hot as hell," I tell him, keeping everything as vague as possible while I conjure up a vision of her in my own mind.
Emma is more than hot. When one of the other guys I had been on patrol commented that some girl was touching my bike, I hadn't expected the entire world to shift beneath me the second I laid eyes on her. It was like getting hit with a shotgun shell the minute she looked at me, and I couldn't stop reliving the moment.
The looks don't hurt, though. That blond hair I can imagine gliding through my fingers. Those soft, plump lips that would feel so good wrapped around my cock. And her body … Christ, she’s petite, but her curves are just enough to tempt a man who knows how to handle them.
I can't stop thinking about her. About what she said, how she smiled, her emerald eyes, her trust and openness. That damned mysterious connection.
"So, you like her."
"Yeah," I confirm. "I like her."
"Then what's the problem, man?" Gunnar asks, sounding frustrated. "Why are you trying so hard to talk yourself out of this?"
"Because she's a fucking student," I retort, losing patience. "She's young, and she has her whole future ahead of her."
Gunnar snorts, giving me a slap on the back before standing up. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, buddy. I can see it on your face that you're just spouting bullshit. You know good and well you're going to go and get that girl."
He walks away before I can respond, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a half-finished beer. I stare at the bottle, considering his words. Is he right? Am I just making excuses not to pursue Emma?
As the night wears on and the alcohol wears off, I find myself cycling through the same doubts and desires again and again. Hours pass, and I'm fully sober by the time I pull my helmet over my head and make the 45-minute drive back to my property. As the only competent mechanic within 2 hours of Stonebridge, I do pretty damn well for myself, but when I bought the property with the attached garage so I could live and work on the same land, it had been with the intention of one day starting a family.
But it's been years, and the large two-story feels pretty empty with just me in it. Still, only having to walk three minutes from my front porch to work is convenient as hell.
I park the bike in the garage, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air before heading inside.
The house is dark and quiet, and I make my way through the familiar space on autopilot. I strip off my clothes and toss them in the hamper, then step into the shower to rinse off the sweat and grime from the day.
As I stand under the hot spray, I find myself thinking of Emma again. I wonder what she's doing right now, if she's safe and warm in her dorm. I hope she's sleeping, getting some rest after a long day at school.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Jesus Christ. This girl is barely an adult, and here I am, worrying about her like she’s already my woman.
Still, it doesn't stop me from imagining what it would be like to have her here with me, sharing this shower, her soft skin pressed against mine. I groan, feeling my cock stir at the image. Fuck. I'm really losing it, and we haven't even touched yet.
I reach down, wrapping my hand around my growing erection. Maybe a little relief will help clear my head.
I start stroking myself, letting the water cascade over me as I picture Emma's slender figure, her gentle curves and smooth skin. I imagine her standing in front of me, her hands roaming over my body, exploring my muscles. I can almost feel her touch, featherlight and teasing, driving me wild with desire.
I speed up my movements, pumping my shaft with increased urgency. I can't help but think what it would be like to have her submit, to spread her legs for me, and let me have her any way I want. Would she be shy and submissive or would she surprise me and take control? Either way, the thought of claiming her, of marking her as mine, is enough to send me over the edge.
I come hard, spilling my release into the stream of water, my heart pounding. I take a deep breath, steadying myself against the shower wall. She’s under my skin, and I'm not sure what to do about it.
But one thing's for sure—I need to see Emma again. Even if it's just to satisfy my curiosity, I need to know if the spark between us is real. And who knows? Maybe she feels the same way.
As I dry off and crawl into bed, exhausted from the day's events, my last thoughts before drifting off to sleep are of Emma.
In the morning, I'll go and find my girl.
The next day, I'm up early, eager to start my search for Emma. I throw on some fresh clothes and grab a quick bite to eat, then head out on my bike. I don't have any jobs scheduled with the Iron Guardians today, but shit can change in an instant in that regard.
The club started about twenty years ago when the female population of the local university began to grow, and with it, the problems that the girls faced just trying to get to class and back. One girl's father was in one of the more traditionally violent motorcycle clubs, but when his daughter told him about being cat-called while walking home from a night class, he and some of his crew decided to play escort for her.