Petals and Chrome: A Biker Erotic Romance (Flowers of Hell MC) Read Online Free PDF

like him — a lawless, dirty biker — would want to bother cleaning his body before sleeping.  
    I feigned sleep as I heard the shower cutting out a few moments later and the door opening once more. I peeked into the room. From between my squinted eyes, I was just able to make out D’s body, side on, as he began clearing a space on the floor for him to sleep, a threadbare old towel wrapped around his waist, his upper body glistening, the taught musculature of him as sculpted as any statue. I could make out the beads of sweat already prickling on his clean skin; it was such a muggy, sweaty night, totally unlike anything I’d known back in England.  
    I found I couldn’t take my eyes off his body: it was like nothing I’d seen in real life before. So thick and strong, so manly , nothing at all like James’s scrawny pale frame. Then D turned, so his back was to me, and the shock of what I saw hit me with an electric shiver: no wonder he reacted the way he did when he found out my name. There was a huge, blood-red rose, tattooed right across his whole back , and beneath it were two or three words. I squinted to make them out but I couldn’t quite manage to.  
    As he carried on clearing a sleeping space for himself, bending forwards to lift up a few empty beer cans, the towel slipped free from his waist, falling down around his ankles. I felt a pang of excitement, at the sudden view of his tight, sculpted buttocks and his meaty upper thighs, and right there, between them, the delicious enticing vision of his surprisingly thick cock and low-slung balls, swinging loose and heavy, as long flaccid as James’s cock was fully erect.  
    I waited for D to pull the towel up around himself again, but he didn’t, obviously assuming I was fast asleep and that no one was watching him.  
    Finally he threw himself down onto the dusty floorboards and pulled the threadbare towel loosely over his mid-section, covering just his groin and a little of his abs as he stretched out on his back.  
    I too shifted onto my back, forcing myself to tear my hungry eyes off his body, willing myself to go back to sleep, trying to ignore my pounding heart and the fluttering, electric feeling swarming in my tummy whenever I thought about the fact that this man , this hot, sexy, naked man was lying there just a few feet from me, only a towel covering his long, thick cock.  
    The darkness and stillness of the night felt like it was alive now, buzzing between us, the silence becoming utterly unbearable. And then, from out of it, I heard a soft groan. Had I imagined it? I held my breath and waited. Then it came again, a soft, low, manly groan along with the slight sound of something shifting and moving, rhythmically, in the dark.  
    Very gently so as not to make a sound, I turned onto my side and looked over at D: sure enough, he was lying on his back, his hand shifting underneath the thin towel, obviously working his cock, his leg and chest muscles tensed and his eyes closed as he sensuously pumped his tool.  
    My eyes had adjusted fully to the darkness now; I could see absolutely everything: the beads of sweat standing out on his tattooed skin like little droplets of glass, the fine hairs on his body, the slick tenseness of his muscles, and, beneath the thin cloth, the sheer size of his now-hard manhood.  
    I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I made the decision, slipping out of the sleeping bag, the warm night air touching against my bare, pinpricked flesh.  
    I got onto all fours and crawled, slowly, off the mattress and over towards him in the dark.  
    The floorboards felt so hard and rough beneath my hands and knees as I approached him.
    I was able to position myself above him, my hands either side of his waist and my head just inches from his pumping hand beneath the towel, before he noticed me.  
    “What the fuck?” he gasped in surprise, his movements stopping, his hand still clutched around his cock beneath that flimsy scrap