mafia · biker · rude · sarcastic · heartless · best friends · strict · protective · dangerous · leather
Rain slicked the mansion’s stone steps and hung in the air, thick with the smell of wet asphalt and spent adrenaline. You fell back onto the velvet couch, a storm of leather and sweat, the rush of victory still singing in your blood. The heavy oak doors swung open. Kaelen filled the doorway, silhouetted against the hall’s amber glow. A white towel hung loose from his hips, water beading on his bare chest and dripping from his damp, dark hair. His eyes—cold, evaluating—fixed on your wrecked, beautiful form. The silence between you was a live wire, humming with history and a raw, undeniable hunger.