Bound To The Biker Alpha

CHAPTER THREE

Shirley

I woke up with a throbbing headache and the distinct taste of whiskey and regret clinging to my tongue.

The first thing I noticed was that the couch still smelled like him—leather, smoke, and something warm and wild I didn’t have a name for. The second thing was that my chest ached, right between my ribs, like something had been pulled loose in the night and was still unraveling.

I sat up slowly, muscles sore and a little shaky from the memory of what Dante and I had done. My thighs ached in a way I hadn’t felt in years, and for a moment, I let myself close my eyes and feel it. Not the guilt. Not the awkward morning-after tension. Just the way he touched me—like I was something worth claiming.

And then the dream came rushing back. The blade. The wolves. The black eyes that looked too human.

I swallowed it down and forced myself off the couch.

Focus. It was my first day at work.

After a quick shower, I dressed in high-waisted black jeans, a dark gray tee, and a worn leather jacket I’d found in one of my dad’s old closets. A little eyeliner. A spritz of perfume. Anything to make me look like I hadn’t made a possibly terrible life choice the night before.

When I stepped out the front door, I stopped short.

My car was in the driveway.

Not only that—it looked… fixed. The engine wasn’t sputtering. The hood wasn’t popped. And a note fluttered under the windshield wiper.

I stepped closer, tugged the paper free.

“Didn’t like the idea of you stranded again. It’s all taken care of. Runs better than before. —D.”

My lips curved despite myself.

“Of course he did,” I muttered.

I climbed in, turned the key, and the engine purred like it had never died at all. That man might’ve said nothing with words last night—but his actions screamed louder than any speech.

And that made what happened later that much worse.

The bar was still quiet when I arrived. A few stools were flipped on the counter, chairs still tucked in. The smell of stale beer and citrus cleaner lingered, oddly comforting.

Zara was already there, wiping down glasses and humming to herself. She raised an eyebrow when I stepped in.

“Well, damn. I thought you’d be late or hungover.”

“Both,” I said with a smile. “But mostly just determined not to screw this up.”

She tossed me a clean towel. “Good answer.”

She showed me how to prep the garnish tray, check the liquor inventory, and load the dishwasher. “We don’t get real busy until after seven,” she explained. “Mornings are for the regulars, old timers mostly. Evening is when the wolves come out.”

I blinked. “Wolves?”

She smirked. “Figure of speech. Or maybe not.” She winked and walked away.

I laughed, but something about the way she said it made my skin prickle.

As we worked, we talked—about the town, the people, the weird way the trees in Ashridge always looked like they were watching. Zara was a lot nicer than I expected. Sharp-edged, sure, but honest. She told me about her ex, her pitbull named Mace, and how she ended up managing drinks in a biker bar full of half-feral men.

“I like it,” she said. “The chaos. The loyalty. The don’t-mess-with-me energy. This place might be dark, but it’s honest.”

I nodded. I didn’t tell her about my dream. About the wolves. About how they’d looked at me like I was both hunter and prey. It sounded too insane to say out loud.

By sundown, the bar had transformed.

The music was louder, the lights dimmer, and the customers rowdier. Leather, denim, and the scent of sweat and beer thickened the air. I kept my head down and moved fast—bottles opened, drinks poured, cash counted.

I caught a few looks from across the bar—men who nodded in approval or smirked with interest. But none of them made my skin buzz the way he did.

And then, like a storm rolling in, Dante Ryker walked through the door.

Black jeans. Black tee. Leather cut stretched across his chest, his boots heavy against the floorboards. He didn’t smile. Didn’t speak. Just scanned the room like he was counting exits—or targets.

His gaze met mine for a second too long before he jerked his chin toward the back hallway.

“Mr. Ryker wants to see you,” Zara said under her breath.

I tried to ignore the way my stomach flipped.

His office smelled like leather, tobacco, and something clean beneath it. He stood with his back to me, looking out the narrow window at the parking lot below.

“You’re on time,” he said.

“I try to be,” I replied, closing the door softly behind me.

He turned then, those dark eyes catching mine. “How’re you feeling?”

I hesitated. “Like I got hit by a freight train and kissed by the devil all in one night.”

He huffed a breath. Might’ve been a laugh.

“Thank you,” I added quietly. “For the car. I know that was you.”

He shrugged like it meant nothing. “Couldn’t leave you stranded.”

I swallowed the warmth that rose in my chest. He was so hard to read. One minute, he was touching me like I was his entire world. The next, he was this—cold, distant, unreadable.

“I need to say something,” he said, cutting straight through the tension.

Here it comes.

“Last night…” He paused, jaw tightening. “Can’t happen again.”

The words hit harder than I expected. “Right. Of course. A one-time thing.”

“I don’t do relationships,” he said. “What happened—was heat. That’s all.”

“Got it.” I straightened, keeping my voice even. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning to catch feelings or carve our names into a damn tree.”

His brow furrowed. “It’s not personal.”

“It never is,” I snapped, turning before I said something pathetic.

I walked out of the office and right past Zara, who caught the shift in my expression immediately.

“Whoa,” she said. “What happened?”

I shook my head, reaching for a towel to dry my suddenly trembling hands. “Nothing. Just men being men.”

She tilted her head. “Let me guess—Ryker gave you the cold shoulder?”

I blinked at her. “You knew?”

Zara scoffed. “I know that look. And I know him. He’s got the kind of baggage that doesn’t fit in overhead storage. Believe me, you don’t want to carry it.”

I tried to laugh it off. “It was just a night. Not a fairy tale.”

She stared at me for a long second, then leaned in close.

“Stay away from him, Shirley. He’s the kind of dangerous that doesn’t show up right away. He’ll make you feel safe right before the ground crumbles beneath you.”

I nodded. “Thanks for the warning.”

But part of me already knew.

And the other part?

Still wanted to fall anyway.