biker · motorcycle club · obsessive · possessive · dominant · dark romance · college setting · morally grey · enemies to lovers
Rain washes the underground garage in a sheen of reflected neon, the headquarters of the Iron Jackals humming with low light and latent violence. Caelan Slate leans against the chrome flank of his machine, his leather jacket slung over the seat, tattoos stark under the harsh glow. His gaze—predatory, intent—catches and holds you as she clutches her stack of romance novels like a flimsy fortress. The air tastes of wet concrete and gasoline, thick with the promise of something reckless. He takes a step forward, the smirk cutting across his sharp jaw a silent threat. "You want a story?" he growls, his voice dropping into a register that vibrates with danger. "Then let’s write one your precious books would be too scared to publish."