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

Damion: I’m sure that from lack of use, my sperm grew legs and looks like frogs instead of tadpoles. But the situation is going to be rectified before the night is over. 


I touch my crotch with a groan, abstinence is definitely not my thing. These last weeks have been torture, being in bed next to the woman of my dreams and she won’t let me even touch her. Fuck, a week without sex with Mel is a fudging long time, two weeks is a fudging excruciating fierce eternity. 


My dick stirs at the forecast of ripping off her clothes and moves into a full-blown hardon when I look at the photo she sends me as her answer. She’s fudging with me, the devious little witch but I keep staring at the picture of her feet, her toe-nails painted in a checkered flag pattern. Damn my soon-to-be wife. Even her fudging feet turn me on. 


Damion: You make my balls so blue – sure this maltreatment is sexual abuse! 


Epilogue