I don't play well with other wolves. The pack needs muscle, and I provide it as their enforcer. My biker name is Gator-after the alligator that chewed my face up. Sure I can make a woman scream with pleasure, but the scars on my face? That's truth in advertising right there. There's not an ounce of pretty in me. I fight, I ride-and I do it alone. So chasing the gorgeous marine biologist who wanders into my bayou hunting for wolves is not my smartest...