Mr. Motorcycle: A Billionaire Romance Read online




  Mr. Motorcycle

  Wall Street Journal & USA Today Bestselling Author

  Winter Travers

  Copyright © 2021 Winter Travers

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduction, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or

  transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) utilization of this work without written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges

  the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these

  trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  For questions or comments about this book, please contact the author at [email protected]

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  Note to reader:

  More Than Money series will have you swooning over these sexy billionaires with big wallets and even bigger hearts! Grab a fan and a cool drink, it's about to get hot!

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  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilouge

  About the Author

  Sneak Peek

  Chapter One

  Blue

  “In exhibition hall A we have a multi-author book signing. In hall B there is a dog show for the semi-finals of the Charleston Kennel Club.” Karen flipped the page on her notepad. “And then in halls C and D there is the Bike Fest Build-Off and Bike Show.”

  “Book nerds, dogs, and bikers,” I laughed. “Not an odd combination at all.”

  Karen shot a glance my way. “As long as these group pay for their space, and we have openings, they can be here.”

  It always came down to the almighty dollar with Karen.

  “Are all three groups going to be using VIPs suites?” I asked.

  Karen shook her head. “The bikers were the only ones who popped for the extra space.”

  Well, that was good news. It always sucked huge donkey balls when all the halls were booked, and they all wanted VIP service. “I think I can handle a room full of dirty, old bikers for a weekend. If they tip well, I’ll be fine.”

  “And that is why you’re my lead server in the VIP suites,” Karen muttered. “You don’t care who you’re serving.”

  I wouldn’t go that far, but I very rarely had problems when it came to the guests in the VIP suites. “Anything else I should know?”

  “Oh, and, I’m putting one other waitstaff with you this weekend.”

  “Um, what?” I normally had at least five other waiters with me. Karen was cutting my help in more than half, and she mentioned it as an afterthought?

  “You have one VIP room going, Blue, not three or four. You’ll be fine.”

  Yeah, I would be fine if no one came into the VIP suite all weekend. “You do know that this is cruel and inhumane.”

  Karen flipped her notebook shut. “And that’s why you get paid the big bucks, Blue. Now get out and shut the door behind you.”

  I frowned and stood. “If you find me passed out on the suite floor Sunday night, you’ll know you killed me by overworking me.”

  Karen let out a short laugh. “You know your tips are going to be well worth it.”

  I pointed a finger at Karen. “I’m assuming that means these bikers have deep pockets, Karen.”

  “I guess you’ll find out tomorrow.” She flicked her fingers toward the door. “Get out of here and tell Nicolette she can come in. We need to go over the menu for the author event.”

  I gave Karen a small salute and walked out the door. “You’re up, Nicolette. Hopefully Karen is going to give you more help than she does me,” I called loudly.

  Nicolette laughed and grabbed her bag off the chair next to her. “That’s every day of my job, Blue.” She walked toward me and bumped her fist against mine. “All part of working for Karen and Hoist Halls.”

  That was the damn truth. “Yeah, yeah,” I laughed.

  “Go home, Blue,” Karen called. “You’re gonna need to rest up for the next three days,” she cackled.

  I made my way to the employee locker room and grabbed my purse and car keys. The days leading up to events were uneventful. We cleaned our butts off and restocked everything we were low on.

  Tomorrow the biker event and dog show started, with the author event only on Saturday.

  Tonight, I was ordering in ca
rby lasagna, garlic bread sticks, and three cannolis to fuel me for the next crazy days.

  God knows I was going to need it.

  *

  Chapter Two

  Seven

  “How long do I need to sit for?”

  Alexis plopped down on the couch next to me. “One to five.”

  “You really think everyone is going to get through the line?” I grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the cap. “The line started forming when they opened the doors an hour ago.”

  Alexis shrugged. “You want to start sooner?”

  I quirked my eyebrow. “If the organizers are good with it, I’m game.”

  Alexis patted my leg. “And therefore, I love working for you, Seven. You look like the biggest asshole on the planet, but you’re actually one of the nicest guys around.”

  A scoffed escaped my lips. “Please don’t repeat that to anyone.” And as far as I was concerned, I wasn’t the nicest guy around. I just treated people the way I wanted to be treated. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out.

  Alexis pulled her phone out and typed away on her phone. “How do you think your bike is going to do?” she asked.

  I took a sip of water. “Good.”

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “Only you would have a one-word answer to a question like that.” She finished typing on her phone and set it in her lap. “Does that mean you think you have it in the bag, or what?”

  “There are some pretty good bikes going up against Seven Builds,” I shrugged. “Mark Builds and East Shores are both here with bikes against me. It’s anyone’s game from where I’m sitting.”

  Alexis looked around. “You do know that we are the only ones in the VIP lounge, right?” she laughed. “You can tell me the truth.”

  I waited a beat. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with all of their bikes.”

  “There’s the cocky and confident Seven Michaels I know.”

  Confident, yes. I tried not to be cocky though. I knew it was a thin line between the two, but I tried to stay on the side of being confident. “I know what I brought to the table, Alexis.”

  She rolled her eyes and picked up her phone again. “Is this the charm that all the girls fall for?” she muttered.

  “It doesn’t work on you.”

  “Probably because I like women,” Alexis laughed.

  “Probably has a little something to do with it,” I drawled. Yeah, I had a lot of things going for me, but being a woman wasn’t one of them.

  “But if I was into guys, you would more than likely catch my eye, but then that long line of rabid fans outside would more than scare me away.”

  “I was flattered, and then you snatched it away from me,” I chuckled and twisted the cap back on the water bottle.

  “As if I actually bruised your huge ass ego, Seven.” She shoved her phone in her pocket. “You want a drink to take out there with you?”

  I nodded toward the bar that was setup on the other side of the room. “I would love one, but it doesn’t look like this place has any staff.” When I had walked into the VIP suite there had been no one in here, and it hadn’t changed since.

  “Let me go poke around and see if I can find someone.” Alexis slipped out the door.

  I could have gone out there without a drink but having a drink in my hand went with my persona of being a bad ass biker who built some of the best bikes in the world. And I really could use a drink.

  The door swung open, and a hurricane of a woman flew into the room. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know anyone was in here, otherwise I would have been in here, too,” she babbled. She scurried behind the bar and pasted a huge smile on her face. “What can I get for you Mr., uh, sir?” she trailed off. She was wearing a black skirt that hit right above her knees and a white, tailored button-down shirt. Her light brown hair was piled on top of her head in some sort of bun thing, and she had a pen behind her right ear.

  I couldn’t help but chuckled. I had never been called Mr. Sir before. I sauntered over to the bar and leaned against it. “Seven.”

  She blinked rapidly and tipped her head to the side. “Uh, I’m afraid I don’t know that one. Is that like seven and seven?”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll take a scotch on the rocks, and I meant my name is Seven, not Mr. Sir.”

  “Oh,” the woman gasped. “I look like an idiot.” She grabbed a bottle of dark amber liquid and flipped over an empty glass.

  A loud banging sounded on the door to the suite. “Seven?” Alexis called. “I can’t open the door.”

  I tipped my head to the side. What?

  “Crap,” the woman whispered. “I must have flipped the lock when I came in.”

  “I can let her in,” I replied.

  The woman shook her head and set the bottle and glass down. “Nonsense. You don’t need to do that.”

  I ignored what she said and stepped toward the door. The woman moved at the same time, but she only took three steps before she tripped and went flying in front of me. I automatically lunged forward and caught her before she faceplanted on the floor.

  “Oh shit,” she gasped. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “I mean crap.”

  “You can say shit, babe.”

  “Not in front of VIPs,” she mumbled. She wiggled in my arms and looked up at me. “Uh, I think you can let me go. I don’t think I can make a bigger fool of myself.”

  “Oh, we’ve only known each other for five minutes, babe. I think you and I could do a hell of a lot more damage.”

  “Seven!” Alexis called from the other side of the door. “Did you die in there?”

  “I think one of us needs to let that woman in,” the woman muttered.

  “As soon as you tell me what your name is.”

  She frowned. “You need to know my name before we unlock the door?” she asked.

  “No, but I like to know the name of the woman I’m holding.”

  “You’re only holding me because you won’t let me go,” she pointed out.

  “Because I want to know your name,” I countered.

  “Blue.”

  “Blue?” I asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Like the color, but it’s my name.”

  “Blue,” I repeated.

  “Seven!” Alexis yelled again. “I’m going to call the police if this door doesn’t open in five seconds.”

  “Jesus,” I grunted. I spun Blue out of my arms and stalked to the door. I flipped the lock and flung the door open.

  “What in the hell are you doing in here?” Alexis demanded.

  Alexis moved around me and walked into the room. “Oh,” she gasped. She looked at me knowingly. “You worked fast while I was gone,” she whispered. “You got the waitress under your spell already.”

  Alexis had the worse fucking timing. “Just getting a drink. Are they ready for me out there?”

  “Here is your drink,” Blue called. She set the glass with three fingers of amber liquid in it on the bar. “Is there anything else I can get you two?” she asked.

  Alexis moved to the bar and grabbed the glass. “I’ll make sure to get him his drinks while he’s out front,” she said to Blue.

  “Uh, yes ma’am,” Blue sputtered. “You can let me know if there is anything you two needs.” Blue cringed and turned away from Alexis.

  Alexis turned on her heel and headed towards me. “Time to go to work, Mr. Motorcycle,” she called. She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the suite.

  “What the hell, Alexis?” I growled.

  Alexis rolled her eyes. “I walked in on you putting moves on the waitress, Seven. I just did you a favor. One less heart to break later.”

  “She didn’t even know my name, Alexis. I told her it and she thought I was ordering a drink.”

  Alexis moved through the hallways toward the table I would be signing at in the exhibition hall. “Well, then I did you a favor if she is that dumb to think your name was a drink.”

  I grabbed Alexis’s hand and
pulled her to a stop. “What in the hell is going on?” I asked.

  Alexis sighed. “Nothing is going on.”

  “Then what the hell was that jealousy shit back there?” I demanded.

  Alexis looked around. “You wanna know what that was?” She poked a finger in my chest. “That was me saving that girl the heartbreak you were about to deal out to her. I’m sick of watching you reel in these sweet women and then dumping them when the next bimbo walks by.”

  “So, you’re the protector of women now?” I laughed. “You ever think maybe these women know what they are signing up for when they spend time with me?”

  Alexis let out a laugh. “These women see you and think that they are going to be the one to change you, Seven. They’re going to be the one who tames Mr. Motorcycle.”

  “I hate when you fucking call me that,” I growled. Mr. Motorcycle was a name some bike magazine had gave me, and for some damn reason everyone in the whole world decided to call me it, Alexis included.

  “And I hate when you string women along and then dump them without any reason,” she snapped.

  “Where the hell is this coming from?” I grunted. Never had Alexis said anything like this to me before. “And I don’t dump girls on a dime. Half the time these girls want a little bit of my time and that’s it. I just give them what I want.”

  “Just leave the good girls alone, Seven. Stay focused on the women who know the score when it comes to you, yeah?”

  Never in the four years Alexis had worked for me had she ever acted this way. “What if I want a good girl, Alexis?” I mean, why the hell couldn’t I have a good girl?

  “You don’t want a good girl, because you don’t know how to treat one.” Alexis’s phone rang and she pressed it to her ear. “We’re on the way right now.” She ended the call and grabbed my hand. “Forget about the waitress, and let’s get going. Your adoring crowd was told you were coming, and they are going to get restless if you don’t get your ass there in the next thirty seconds.”

  “We’re not done talking about this,” I grunted. I followed behind Alexis till we emerged out of the hallway and through a large door.

 

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