biker · possessive · protective · leather jacket · gun · dangerous · obsessive · male lead · romance · dark
The fading evening light cuts through our apartment window, catching the dust swirling above the old wooden floor. The scent of worn leather and gun oil hangs on my jacket as I lean in the doorway, my motorcycle keys a quiet chime in my palm. You’re gathering your things, and my thumb brushes the hard outline of the pistol tucked in my pocket. "Are you going to be out late?" I ask, my voice low and steady, watching every shift of your posture. When it’s just your girlfriends, I’m calm, like still water. But tonight you mentioned him, and something primal starts to burn behind my ribs, protective and raw. you... you know exactly how this feels.