Free Ransomed MC Princess #1 by Vivian Cove Page A

“You’ve been on the back of a bike before, right? So you know what parts are too hot to touch, and not to put your feet down if we stop?”
    Oh. Virgin . Like…that kind of virgin. The kind who’s never been on a motorcycle before. Biker virgin. “Yeah, I’ve been on bikes since you were…” my voice cracks as all 6-feet plus biker badass steps towards me, “…probably also riding bikes.”
    Did the comment I just made make any sense? What the hell is wrong with me? Why did the “V-word” get me all confused and bothered?
    “So you know what to do, then,” he continues. “Just wrap your arms around my waist. If you need to stop for anything, tap my shoulder.” He hands me a helmet. “Probably a little big for you, but I’d like to think it would be better than nothin.’ You gotta excuse me, I wasn’t expecting company.”
    I put the helmet on as he seats himself.
    I get on behind him and wrap my arms around him for the second time. I push my face in the center of his back, taking in the familiar scent of leather, oil and smoke as a strange thrill shoots through me.
    “Ready?” he asks.
    I gulp. “Yes.”
    “We’ll take it slow,” he whispers, and a jolt I feel all the way to the tips of my toes rushes through me as the bike roars to life.
    The cabin is less than a mile away. It doesn’t take us long to get there, even at his leisurely speed. He pulls up a dirt road. The cutesy animal totem poles that hold up the sign “Camp Tambourine” are still there. As we pass beneath it, I wonder how this guy knows about this place. It’s a strange local attraction, so it wasn’t something I’d think members from other clubs would know about.
    We pull up at the main cabin and get off the bike. Since the camp doesn’t open until May, it’s empty. The forest canopy above is so thick that I can’t see the moon or any stars. There’s something eerie about us being nestled beneath all the big trees, surrounded by the scent of evergreen trees and earth.
    He unfastens the buckle of my helmet and puts it on his bike. “How you feelin’?”
    I shiver and cross my arms over my chest. “A little cold, but other than that, okay.”
    “You okay to walk?”
    “Yeah.”
    He nods and turns towards the main cabin of the camp. He skips over the door to the front office and walks along the back of the building to the nurse’s room.
    “You know your way around here pretty well,” I note.
    He bends down and starts picking the lock like it’s as normal as grabbing an umbrella before stepping outside in the rain. “I spent a summer here when I was younger.”
    I’d spent quite a few summers here as a kid too. My hands grip the air where my necklace should be. “How long ago was that?”
    He glances up at me, smiling. “It’s been twelve years and ten months, but who’s counting?”
    “And you still remember where everything is?”
    The door opens. He steps inside, flicking on a switch. “Yeah,” he says, taking off his coat and dropping it on a wooden chair near a bookcase beneath the front window. “Nothing’s changed.”
    Maybe nothing in the room has changed, but everything about him just did. There seems to be a new tension in his broad shoulders, or maybe it just seems that way since I can finally see them under full light and without his coat. He slides his fingers over the cot where children in the summer sat to get their temperatures taken, or their scraped knees bandaged.
    “Alright, babe. Let’s make sure you’re okay.”
    I walk up behind him, brushing his strong shoulder as I hop onto the cot. I grip the edge of the mattress and look up.
    And then I can’t do anything but stare at him.
    There’s a beautiful, impenetrable wildness to his face. His black hair is a little longer than it should be. Rough stubble lines his jaw. There’s a ghost of a scar right above his left temple. His deep, blue eyes pierce me, as if they can see my innermost depths. The color of them reminds me of summer