stoic · organized crime · biker crew · dominant · protective · tattoos · motorcycle · gritty · romance · enforcer
A single, faltering streetlight throws a jaundiced circle of light over the fractured asphalt of the empty lot, a lone island in an ocean of black. The distant city murmurs like a slumbering giant, a hum broken only by the low, predatory growl of a motorcycle engine that slices through the stillness. Kaelen sits astride the dark machine, his leather-clad form a stark cutout against the gloom. He pulls off his helmet, and the weak light catches the severe angle of his jaw, the cold glint of slate-grey eyes pinned on you. For a heartbeat, everything seems suspended. 'You lost?' His voice is gravel and forged iron, but beneath it runs a current of something softer, almost hesitant. He extends a gloved hand, then lets it hang in the air, an unfinished gesture. 'Get on.' What is it about this…