Page 19 of Rage
He cares about me; I see that. I shuffle my feet, feeling awkward. He whisks hair behind my ear, and I momentarily close my eyes at the affectionate touch. “I know we aren’t together...” I start hesitantly.
“Not yet,” he murmurs.
I laugh. “What did you just say?” I want him to repeat it. I need to make sure I’m not imagining things.
He gives me a cheeky grin in return.I’m falling for him too quickly.
“Zara told me there are women at the clubhouse who don’t have partners. Who just sleep with the single guys. I guess, just with everything I’ve been through, will you be sleeping with them while I’m there?”Jeez, that sounded even more desperate than I imagined it would.
He shakes his head swiftly. “No fucking way.”
“Oh . . . good.” And I can breathe.
“Why would I want to sleep with anyone when I’ll have you in my bed?” His tone is firm; his eyes hold mine.
And it occurs to me in that instant that I’ll be sleeping in his bed. A shirtless, sexy, eight-packed man. If I had any friends, they’d be jealous.
“You don’t have to stay in my bed,” he’s quick to say. “There’s a spare room for you as well.” He looks at the ground, almost shyly, and it’s so sweet. “I just wanted you to know you have options.”
I’m speechless. He might be twenty-four, but he’s mature for his age.Ha! I’m sure all the cougars say that.
“What are you giggling at?” he asks, his lips twitching with amusement.
“All your friends are going to think I’m a cougar.” How embarrassing!
He lets out a deep laugh, then he grabs my bag and slings it over his shoulder. “But you’re a hot cougar.”
“Rage!” I curse and playfully smack his arm.
“I like you calling me that... And what?” he asks, pretending to be hurt. “Youarehot.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face.
We get on the bike and ride safely out of town. It isn’t long until we reach a dirt road. This new rebellious side of me kind ofwishes he’d go faster, but he’s being “Rage,” taking care of me, like he’s done since the moment we met.
We pull up to what looks like an older-style mansion. It’s not modern or fancy, but it’s two stories high and sprawling, surrounded by trees. The property feels secluded, peaceful even. I take off the helmet, and Rage offers me his hand to help me off the bike. I accept, though my dismount is anything but graceful.
A sudden bark makes me turn, and I see a rottweiler staring at me. His tail is wagging. I smile widely. “Can I pat the dog?” I love animals.
Rage smiles. “His name’s Conan. He’s friendly. Loves women and kids. Us MC men? He’s a little more standoffish.”
I crouch down slowly, letting Conan sniff my hand. When he licks it, I gently pat him, marveling at how soft and shiny his fur is. “He’s gorgeous,” I say, running my hand over his silky coat. “And well fed,” I add with a grin, noticing his round belly.
Rage gazes at him. “He’s overweight, but we all love to spoil him.”
I peer up at the clubhouse. My hands are shaky. Rage glances down, and I can see he notices. He takes my hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses my knuckles. I give him a warm smile. He calms me somewhat, but my heart still pounds. I hope they like me.
The front door bangs open and a handsome man with a mischievous grin strides to us with open arms. “Rose! Good to meet you.”
I go to put my hand out to shake his, but he pulls me into a small hug instead. “Axle, is it?” I ask.
His whole face brightens and he looks at Rage. “Did you tell her about me?” His tone is full of mock excitement.
Rage shakes his head. “Nope.”
Axle beams. “I’m famous!” he declares, making me giggle.
“Axle! Give her a second to breathe. She hasn’t even walked through the front door yet,” a woman calls out from the porch. She’s attractive, petite with long blond hair and a friendly smile.
