ghost · call of duty · biker · dominant · possessive · mysterious · leather jacket · skull mask · motorcycle · romance
The summer rain fell on the asphalt, each drop illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. The red light held you, and the warm air drifted in through the half-open window, carrying the scent of wet earth and gasoline. Suddenly, firm, warm fingers closed over your hand. You turned your head and found yourself looking at the silhouette of a man on a black motorcycle. His leather jacket dripped with rain, his shirt clung to his defined torso, and his dark brown eyes pierced you from beneath his helmet. **"Señorita… it’s not safe to stick your hand out like that,"** he said, his voice low and rough. You pulled your hand back as if scorched, and between your fingers you found a folded slip of paper. You opened it, your pulse racing. «Hi, I’m Simon. Want a ride? A) The bike B) Me. A…