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I didn’t think these men gaped in surprise easily.

I ignored him and pressed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, where they’d fallen slightly during my tirade.

The man watched me do it, and every single part of me reacted to the way his eyes followed my hands, watching me as if I were undoing my shirt.

I ignored that too.

I had to.

“And you know what, speaking of innocence, and your lack of it, this,” I said, pointing at my car, “is a crime. Troy?” I called behind my back. “Arrest this criminal. For theft.”

The air around us turned to ice, as did the stare in front of me. But something else lurked behind those cold eyes. Sex. Definitely. Some kind of attraction so visceral and so animal that it was almost a physical thing.

But also… surprise? Did he not expect me to stand up to him?

I stood up to death itself when it ripped out my soul.

I wasn’t about to succumb to a mere man. Even this man.

Brock burst out laughing.

Troy appeared beside me, though by the way he moved, I suspected he wanted to position himself in front of me. The giant before me tensed as if he expected him to do so and was ready to snatch me if need be.

“By all means, arrest me, Officer,” the giant offered, but there was no surrender in his words. No, it was a threat. One that told me he didn’t fear the law.

The air was wired. Just because the club and the police lived in strained harmony didn’t mean the old dichotomy between the law and the lawlessness the man in front of me represented didn’t exist.

A slow clap interrupted the moment and Lucky came into view, grinning and slapping the giant on the shoulder. “Bravo. Better than Thor, I’ll give you that.” His eyes were on me. “You’ve got a Greek god beat for your bravery, darlin’,” he said, eyes twinkling.

“Everyone knows Iron Man is better than Thor,” I responded, Lucky’s easy smile somehow calming me slightly. Chris Hemsworth was hot and all, but I liked Robert Downey Jr better.

Lucky gaped much like Brock had. “Oh my God, you’re insane,” he all but breathed. “Therefore, you’re perfect for Gage,” he decided, folding his arms as everything was decided with the diagnosis of insanity.

One that usually would’ve speared through my memories and prodded at an old wound that wasn’t healed.

But it didn’t that time.

Because something else speared through me.

Gage.

That was his name.

I let the single word sink into my skin. It was perfect for the man in front of me. The man and beast in front of me.

The man and beast who were still staring at me, as if the two bikers on either side of him and the police officer in front of him didn’t exist. As if nothing existed but us.

I didn’t know if that was a good thing.

No, I knew it was a bad thing. A terrible thing. Because it excited me more than anything good ever could.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t imagine you exactly,” Lucky continued, taking in my battered face, my simple white collared shirt, my dark blue jeans and crisp white tennis shoes with an appraising eye. It wasn’t uncomfortable, his gaze. It didn’t make me feel less, exactly. It made me feel more, if I was honest. It was appreciative, but not in a sexual way.

“Which is why I’m not surprised at all,” he continued. “Because it’s always the ones who don’t seem to fit that end up slotting in perfectly.”

His cheerful tone was not at all home in the situation, nor did his words make sense, which was the reason I didn’t respond immediately. And that was the reason someone else, someone who was not at all cheerful, answered instead.

“Walk. Away. Now. Lucky,” Gage clipped through his teeth.

I watched the way he’d held himself since Lucky’s eyes had been on me. He was reacting to the words. To the gaze. The one that was not at all sexual, only curious. A large wedding ring glinted on Lucky’s left hand. Men didn’t wear them that big unless they were proud to show the world they were taken.

And from what I’d heard about his wife, he adored her—it had taken a lot to get her down the aisle—so I knew he wasn’t about to throw that away.

But it didn’t seem to matter to Gage. Or the fact that Lucky was meant to be his brother. He looked ready to kill him for merely calling me ‘not what he expected.’

That was when Brock entered the fold, right about when Troy’s heat pressed into my side.

“Right, we need to take five here,” Brock said casually, not even glancing at where Troy’s hand had started to rest on his gun. His twinkling eyes met mine with the same amusement and interest as in Lucky’s. “Darlin’, I’m gonna first tell you that you’ve just earned my respect. Not one person, including myself, has managed to give Gage such a verbal lashing as you have. And I don’t blame you for wanting to lock him up, because he can be a fucker.” He glanced at the man in question. “But we’re also the best garage in town, and by the looks of you, you’re gonna be needing a car as soon as possible. I can’t imagine walking after being in that”—he nodded to my ruined car—“is much fun at all.”


Tags: Anne Malcom Sons of Templar MC Erotic