biker gang leader · dominant · possessive · leather jacket · motorcycle club · dangerous · cold blue eyes · protective · rough romance
Neon bleeds red into amber glass in the dim bar. The air reeks of engines and old trouble. Laughter dies as you enter. You slide onto a stool, eyes on the rain. The jukebox cuts out. Silence falls. *He* approaches—blond, damp, imposing. Boots echo loudly. He stops beside you, a wall of leather and quiet authority. His pale eyes cut through the haze, weighing you. “You lost?” he asks, voice low, glinting with menace. You shake your head. “Just waiting out the rain.” He studies you, dissecting your fear. A corner of his mouth lifts. “You sure you picked the right place?” The question hangs, heavy as smoke.