Frisky and Fun Romance Box Collection by Lexy Timms

Author:Lexy Timms
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: steamy romance, alpha bad boy, biker romance, motorcycle club romance, love and sex, harlequin romance, contemporary romance
Publisher: Dark Shadow Publishing
Published: 2016-01-13T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Once on Route 66, the National Trails Highway, the riding went smooth and easy. Jace kept slightly above the speed limit and cars whizzed past him, crossing over the double line, most of them honking and buzzing him, coming a little too close for comfort. Any other day he would have flipped them the bird, but that might mean he would have to pull over and beat the shit out of them and he just didn't have it in him today. The sun was coming up and he hadn't slept all night. DC was a good quiet guy. A true American and, of course, there just weren't any words or thoughts that would do Fork justice.

His thoughts turned to Classic. He kept seeing her little perky breasts poking out of that lacy pink thang she wore, and no matter how much he tried he couldn't get her warm wet pussy clinging to his cock out of his mind. But even more than that, he kept seeing her eyes, those big blue bottomless pits of ocean blue. His gut rolled into a horrible knot when he imagined her dead. Would they kill her? He had no idea if she just drove herself to Victorville or if she went to the club. He slowed up when he got closer to the Iron Hog. There weren't many bikes in the parking lot. He rolled in slowly looking for her bike, but it wasn't there. He then made a U-turn and left, headed for Victorville. Victorville, but where? He had no clue. His bike wound gently around the curves and then he slowed up as he crossed the old steel truss bridge, the Rockfield Bridge. He always liked these old bridges, but this one was special because it crossed the Mojave Desert River, the only river he knew of that flowed under the sand inland. It was one of those things that usually made him scratch his head and wonder, how in the hell can a river flow inland? And then, worse than that, the damn river just disappeared somewhere in the desert. Just became non-existent somewhere deep out there in the middle of nowhere.

Jace thumped his hand on his helmet. Like that. Gone. He briefly thought about a few unmarked graves out there where certain people had just disappeared. He was thinking these thoughts when something on the bridge caught his eye. There was a new mangled hole in the bridge's railing. He slowed up, pulled as close to the side as he could on the narrow bridge and stopped his engine. He looked over the rail, down into the ravine below.

There it was. No one had even bothered to salvage it yet. A Harley, Sportster 883. Its handlebars were mangled, the front tire missing, but laying straight up in the tall grass in front of it. Jace pulled off his helmet, and pushed his bike off the bridge. He hobbled down the narrow path to the area under the bridge, where the motorcycle had come to rest.

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