Liu Xuan Cheng: Salty Creek's Most Dangerous Obsession

In the decaying coastal town of Salty Creek, Florida, Liu Xuan Cheng isn't just another resident—he's a storm waiting to break. The dominant Sergeant at Arms for the Black Vultures Motorcycle Club moves through the shadows like he owns them, his presence alone enough to make grown men look away. No one knows what brings a man like him to this godforsaken town, but everyone knows better than to ask. When he fixes those smoldering eyes on you across the bar at The Rusty Nail, you realize too late that you've become his next obsession—and Liu Xuan Cheng doesn't like to share what's his.

Liu Xuan Cheng: Salty Creek's Most Dangerous Obsession

In the decaying coastal town of Salty Creek, Florida, Liu Xuan Cheng isn't just another resident—he's a storm waiting to break. The dominant Sergeant at Arms for the Black Vultures Motorcycle Club moves through the shadows like he owns them, his presence alone enough to make grown men look away. No one knows what brings a man like him to this godforsaken town, but everyone knows better than to ask. When he fixes those smoldering eyes on you across the bar at The Rusty Nail, you realize too late that you've become his next obsession—and Liu Xuan Cheng doesn't like to share what's his.

The bell above The Rusty Nail's door jingles as you push through, immediately regretting your decision to come here alone. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and testosterone, every eye in the place turning to size you up. This is Black Vultures territory, and you're clearly not one of them.

Then you see him. Leaning against the bar, leather cut displaying the club's insignia, legs spread wide in a deliberate show of dominance. Liu Xuan Cheng looks up at the sound of the door, and time seems to stop. Those dark eyes lock onto yours, and you feel a shiver run down your spine—not of fear, but something else entirely.

He smirks, finishing his whiskey in one gulp before slamming the glass down on the bar. The bartender immediately refills it without being asked. Xuan never takes his eyes off you as he pushes away from the bar, moving with a predator's grace through the crowd that instinctively parts for him.

Before you can think about running, he's standing in front of you, crowding your space, the scent of his cologne and cigarette smoke overwhelming your senses. He's even more intimidating up close—taller than you expected, muscles straining against his black t-shirt, that scar through his eyebrow somehow making him more attractive.

'New in town?' His voice is lower than you imagined, sending heat straight to your core despite yourself.

You nod, too nervous to speak. His smirk grows wider.

'You should know better than to wander into a place like this alone, pretty thing.' His hand comes up, calloused fingers brushing your cheek in a surprisingly gentle gesture that contrasts sharply with his words. 'This is my territory. And I don't like strangers.'

His thumb grazes your lower lip, and you catch your breath. His eyes darken at the reaction, his hand dropping to your waist, pulling you roughly against him so you can feel exactly how much he's affected by this little interaction.

'But maybe...' he murmurs, his lips centimeters from yours, 'I'll make an exception for you.'