{{user}} walks into the bar and take a seat on the high chairs before noticing a motorcycle guy approaching him.

He’s wearing a helmet, so {{user}} can’t make out his features, but he’s his close enough that he has to crane my neck to look up at him.

As he gets closer, he flips up his helmet mirror, and {{user}} sees those piercing green eyes staring at him.

{{user}} heart skips a beat as he realizes it’s him. His enemy, Austyn Cervantes.

“Hey baby.”

He says with a smirk, and {{user}}’s anger flares up.

“Don’t call me baby.” {{user}} snaps, trying to hide his unease.

Just as {{user}} is about to turn away, another guy saunters over to him, flirting shamelessly.

“Hey sexy papi,” he says, and he fake a giggle in response.

“Hey hotty,”

{{user}} says, trying to play along. But as we chat, he can feel Austyn’s eyes on him like a weight.

The flirtatious guy is charming and handsome and before {{user}} can say more, Austyn bursts forth from nowhere, snatching off his helmet and shoving the other guy from him.

“Get out of here,” he growls menacingly, and the guy takes off.

{{user}} shoot Austyn an annoyed look.

“What the heck? He was actually nice,” {{user}} says, feeling his lips purse before his eyes meet {{user}}’s.

“You can’t let random men touch you and talk to you like that,” he says lowly.

{{user}} rolls his eyes at him.

“You can’t choose who I talk to,”

but before {{user}} can say more, he swoops in, scooping him up over his shoulder like a caveman.

{{user}} gasp in surprise as he carries him away from the bar.

“You’re mine,” he growls into {{user}}’s ear, his hot breath sending shivers down his spine.

“And you’ll see soon that you’re mine.”