Claiming the Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 9)

I don’t know what I feel more relief or dread when I exit the bathroom and find my bed empty. I hear his motorcycle start and I know its better this way. He’s not boyfriend material and as much as I’d like to pretend otherwise, a small morsel inside me wishes he were that kinda guy.

Viking is a biker who likes to flirt and get his rocks off. There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m the one with the problem. The one who had these preconceived scenarios in my head that he’d want more than sex with the game he talks, but now I know better. Now I know he’s all talk and that’s okay. This time I can take it. I know where I stand with him. Where I measure on the scale.

My cell buzzes from my night stand.

My heart clenches in my chest as I pick it up and swipe to unlock the screen. One new message.

JM:Hey gorgeous. I know it’s late. Just got in and was thinking about tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you.

Andi:Me too.

Guilt eats at me. I just fucked Viking. My sheets and my skin smell of him. The last thing I should be doing is texting Justice, but he’s a nice guy with a respectable job. He calls when he says he will. Even when out on the job he finds time to shoot me a quick message to let me know he’s thinking of me.

JM:You just got in or you can’t wait to see me?

Andi:Both.

I smile at my screen even though I told a white lie.

JM:Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

Andi:Night.

JM:Sweet Dreams. I know who I’ll be dreaming about.

I let out a sigh. Sweet as pie.

One of the good ones.

I lay my phone on my nightstand and snuggle into my pillows catching a whiff of Viking. I chuck my pillow across the room and grab the extra one from the other side of the bed. Stupid jerk biker. I can’t believe I slept with him again. I don’t know what came over me other than hormones because the second time around was out of this damn world. Best sex of my life.

I’m an idiot. Though I guess I wanted him to know that I’m not a frigid fuck or whatever it was he called me, and I mean he was right here on my bed naked and eager to please.

If that makes me a slut, then so be it. I’m a cock slobbering biker slut.

Justice Master arrives ten minutes early for our date. Dressed in dark jeans and a button-down shirt, he’s clean cut and has a handsome smile highlighted by his strong jawline. No facial hair. Pretty light blue eyes so clear they almost appear to be made of crystal.

A pang of guilt stabs me in the heart. Viking has gorgeous eyes that Wylla has always compared to sea glass.

“Wasn’t sure what your favorite flower is so I got you a mixture.” He hands me a bouquet of wildflowers that are picture perfect.

“Thanks.” I give them a sniff but don’t tell him I really don’t care for the smell of real flowers. “Come on in and I’ll get these in some water.” I move from the doorway to allow him to enter and make my way to the kitchen hoping I still have a tea pitcher that will serve in place of a vase. I’ve never had a need for one, but if I continue to see Justice after tonight maybe I’ll buy one in case he’s the kind of man who treats a girl to flowers just because.

“Nice place you’ve got.”

I glance back at him as I partially fill the plastic pitcher with water. “It’s okay. How about you. Do you rent, own, or live at home?”

He chuckles. “Think I’m a little old to still live at home. Got a house. Belonged to my parents. They retired to Florida.”

“Must be nice to live in the house you grew up in.”

“Your folks live close by?”

“Yup and my brother lives in their basement.” I don’t know why I just divulged that information. Not that it matters. The guy is a detective. I’m sure he’s already ran a background check on me or something close to it. “Sorry. That was random and too much information for a first date.”

“Not at all. I want to know everything about you, but how about we save it for the ride to the restaurant.”

“Right, but you know most of the good stuff anyway from our chats. Let me get my shoes on and I’ll be set to go.”

“Take your time. I know you’re worth any wait.”

His line is a bit cheesy yet totally sweet.

He’s totally attentive. He holds my front door open for me and waits on the walkway while I lock it. And his ride is totally nice. I don’t know what detectives bring home, but he drives a new Chevy truck with all the bells and whistles. This vehicle is easily near fifty grand. Not that I know about cars or what cops drive. The ones I see around town off duty usually have an older sedan or something similar. I’ve met a few of them when they come into the hospital bringing in drunk drivers for blood tests or to speak with victims of a crime. We get a lot of inmates from the jail too.

He opens the passenger door for me and waits till I click my seat belt before shutting it. I’m not used to all this attention. Most guys are just looking for a temporary bed warmer. I’ve tried dating apps and really, they are full of assholes who send dick pics and cheat on their wives and girlfriends. It’s seriously slim pickins for a girl like me.

I’m taller than a lot of guys who ask me out. If I put on heels or chunky heeled boots, I’d probably be taller than Justice, but he’s cute and nice enough that it doesn’t bother me as much as it normally would. When I was in high school the boys would tease me and ask if I was adopted from the Amazon River.