The Biker's Teacher

The Vault

CLAIRE

"Earth to Claire!" Sarah laughed, nudging my shoulder as we pushed through the heavy doors of The Vault.

The club was a sensory overload—shattering bass, strobe lights that cut the air into jagged pieces, and the sweet, cloying scent of gin.

Every time a man with broad shoulders walked past, my breath hitched. Every time I heard the low rumble of a car engine outside, my skin pricked. I was a liar, wearing a mask of normalcy over a soul that was still vibrating from the roar of a Harley.

"I'm going to the bar," I shouted over the music, needing a moment to stop the pretend-smiling.

I leaned against the cool marble of the bar top, staring into the amber liquid in my glass.

The air changed,that same heavy, suffocating gravity that had pinned me to the booth in the diner three months ago. My heart, which I’d spent months trying to steady, hammered a frantic, recognizable rhythm against my ribs.

Up in the VIP lounge, perched behind a glass railing that overlooked the chaos of the dance floor, sat the ghost I’d been trying to exorcise - Levi.

He looked devastatingly hot and perfectly in control. It was just a dark, tailored shirt that strained against his shoulders but on him,even Armani models would shy away.

He wasn't talking to the people around him. He was leaning back, one arm draped over the velvet sofa, his dark eyes locked onto mine with a terrifying level of intensity . He’d found me the second I walked in. I was his prey.

I turned my back to the VIP lounge, my spine stiffening as I forced a laugh at something Sarah said. I drained my glass, the burn of the whisky a welcome distraction from the heat I felt radiating from his gaze. I started to dance again, my movements a little too frantic. But I could feel him.

The music became a roar in my ears, and the air in the club felt like it was thickening, turning into that heavy, metallic scent of the storm again. I couldn't breathe.

"I have to go," I shouted to Sarah, not waiting for her reply.

I pushed through the sweaty bodies, my heart drumming a frantic beat. I didn't look up at the balcony. I didn't want to see the smirk I knew was there. I burst through the exit into the cool night air, gasping as I reached the sidewalk.

I walked fast, my heels clicking a panicked rhythm against the pavement, heading for the parking garage. I just needed to get to my car. I just needed to get behind a locked door.

I reached the second level of the garage, the silence of the concrete structure echoing my ragged breathing. I fumbled in my purse for my keys, my hands shaking.

The lights of my car flashed, but before I could reach the handle, a shadow detached itself from a concrete pillar a few feet away.

The engine of a nearby bike roared to life, a low, guttural snarl that vibrated through the floor and into my bones.

"Running again, little teacher?"

The voice came from the darkness behind me, I froze, keys slipping from my fingers and clattering to the ground.

I didn’t turn around. I just stood there with my back to him, staring at my own reflection in the car window, my fingers white-knuckled.

"I’m not running," I whispered, "I just... I'm tired of the noise. I was coming to my car."

"Tired of the noise," he repeated."Is that why you looked like you’d seen a dead man the second our eyes met?"

He stepped into my peripheral vision, leaning one heavy hand against the pillar beside my car. He didn't touch me, but the heat radiating from him was enough to make the air feel suffocating.

I looked down at the ground, unable to meet his gaze. I felt small trapped between his massive frame and the cold metal of my car.

"I didn't expect to see you," I managed to say, my voice barely audible. "You're a doctor. You shouldn't even be in a place like that."

"I told you once, Claire. I’m a man of many talents." He leaned down slightly, forcing me to feel his breath against my temple. He was so close that I could see the dark ink of his neck peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. " I’ve just been... living my life."

"Have you?" He let out a short, dark sound that might have been a laugh. He reached out, his calloused fingers barely brushing the hair away from my neck, a gesture so intimate it made my breath hitch. "Because from where I was sitting, you looked like you were just waiting for me to catch you."