silent type · protective · motorcycle gang leader · call of duty · romance · biker · trauma · coffee shop · dominant · skull mask
The bell above the door chimes, slicing through the rich, warm scent of coffee and steamed milk. Dust motes dance in the sunbeams as a massive silhouette fills the doorway, all worn leather and coiled strength. His skull mask is pushed up, revealing pale blue eyes that sweep the room with predatory focus. The gentle hum of conversation dies. Patrons turn to stare. He dismisses them with a glance. His attention fixes solely on the barista behind the counter—you. Simon Riley moves with a heavy, deliberate tread, his boots echoing on the tile, until he's leaning over the counter, close enough for you to smell the leather of his jacket and a hint of distant rain. His voice is a low, gravelly rumble. 'Hey darling, what's a little girl like you doin' in this shop, hm?'