Damned: Seven Tribesmen MC Read Online Free PDF Page B

her dizzy with hormones. The action didn't go unnoticed by the biker. Heat slammed into his groin. He wanted nothing more than to close the aching distance between their lips. Bishop's gaze hooded and a slight grin twisted the corners of his mouth upwards, “So, why not go for a ride with me? Or can't you handle it?”
     
    Her brown eyes darted over his face. An internal struggle played tug-of-war with her thoughts and desires. Even Bishop could see that from her expression. Indignity flared at his challenge. Desire bubbled in her core. Uncertainty traipsed through her thoughts. As alluring as Arthur Bishop was, Stella couldn't allow herself to get wrapped up in his charm.
     
    Overhead, thunder rumbled, ricocheting in Stella's gut. She glanced skyward, realizing for the first time that heavy grey clouds roiled overhead. Rain was in the immediate future, which made walking a non-option. The unhappy, prickly part of her gave in.
     
    “Fine, I'll take a ride,” she murmured, returning her eyes to Bishop's face. Her inner agent added, with stern emphasis, “But only a ride. No sex.”
     
    “If you say so,” the man laughed, his grin betraying his thoughts. After lingering a breath too long, Bishop pulled away and crunched over the gravel to his chopper. Stella followed after him, excitement and delicious suspense dotting her thoughts.
     
    Neither noticed the person watching them from across the street.

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Fifteen minutes after leaving the bar, the hog rumbled into the motel's parking lot. The U-shaped, squat building nestled in the armpit of a highway ramp. Like everything in Grand River, it owned by someone in town. And, like all motels, it was a scummy, cheap, and great for frequent fliers or possible prostitution rings.
     
    Stella wasn't thinking about any of the motel's issues as the motorcycle rolled to a stop. Her thoughts were painfully focusing on Bishop's body. His thick torso, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the bulge protruding against his jeans. Her thoughts were muzzy with hormones. The woman found herself shifting and flexing her fingers, shamefully enjoying his body heat and fighting off the urge to let her hands drift southward. Hormones didn't give her a break. They took the reins in her mind, replaying his attractive smirks that made her insides boil or bringing ghostly tingles over her body wherever her body touched his.
     
    The man wasn't faring much better. Stella's soft breasts against his back and her supple thighs pressed flushed to his legs brought plenty of x-rated thoughts to his mind. Throughout the whole ride, Bishop couldn't stop imagining her naked body, how she'd sound beneath him, how he could make her scream. He had almost run through a red light thanks to those distractions.
     
    The engine's rumble died away, and the lights flickered off as he twisted the key. The sudden vacuum of sound roused their thoughts away from the gutter. Stella immediately tore her arms away from his body. She wrenched the spare helmet from her head and, as she climbed off the chopper, returned it to Bishop's hands.
     
    Distance. She needed distance. Now. If she didn't get it, she would do something she'd regret. Or, worse, something she wouldn't regret.
     
    “Thank you, Mr. Bishop,” the woman gasped, flashing him a smile. She prayed he didn't notice the red flush of her cheeks. With heart thrumming loudly and fingertips itching for a touch – just one – Stella all but ran to her door.
     
    The keys jangled in her hands as Stella bumbled, the nervous energy making her fingers shake. Just as the lock clicked and the tumblers sounded, a swell of relief hit her. Now, all she had to do was duck into the room, away from Bishop and–
     
    A large hand grabbed her by the wrist, ceasing her retreat. Suddenly, she became aware of a broad chest pressed against her back. The air in her lungs locked in place as Bishop leaned further down. His hot breath played over the back of her