A San Francisco boy.
Double world champion.
Famous bad boy.
Adrenaline junky.
And my brother's best friend.

He seeks to control his guilt.  I like the feeling of chaos inside.

He hurt me.  I hate him ... but love and hate sometimes are indistinguishable.

Damion Grimm lives by the rules.  HIS rules.  Rules he never ever breaks.  Fast bikes, fast brunets, fast life.  That's how he copes.

He doesn't do relationships.  Especially not with his best friend's little BLONDE virgin sister.  I'm not his type.

But when my family's past comes back to haunt me, I learn that things are not always as they appear. 

Sometimes monsters like to hide.  Sometimes bad boys can have wings.  Sometimes hate can be love.  Sometimes control can be lost.  Sometimes sex can create miracle beans.

But most importantly - I've learned that you can always make new rules.

The Biker's Rules

The next moment Jackson comes crashing from behind and falls onto me, almost causing me to lose my balance. 


“Shit!” My first thought is that the guy must be drunk or something. I help Jackson back up and he wipes his hand under his nose, then he looks at it covered with blood. He turns a lighter shade of pale, Jackson can’t stand the sight of blood. 


“What the fuck?” He growls. He’s definitely not drunk, someone attacked him. 


“Hey, Grimm, you better keep your little friends out of our space! I’ll see you in the race.” A lean bald-headed man with loads of tattoos all over his body shouts, leaning from behind the one van. It’s Graham Scott, Honda’s top rider and a real asshole. I know he just wants to get into my head before the race, but it’s not going to work. Most of my opponents try to rattle me before a race, hoping that I’ll lose focus, so I’m used to it. Actually, it just has the opposite effect. It makes me want to win more. 


The race