My back was pressed against the car, another body hard and hot against mine as a large hand settled on top of my collarbone.
My heart was splintering my ribs, and I could barely suck in a painful breath until a familiar scent entered my system with my frantic inhale.
Woodsy. A lingering but old smell of smoke.
“What in the fuck do you think you’re doing?” a voice growled, the fury in it rough against the night air.
I blinked at the beautifully savage face above me, his iron features painted in rage. His eyes were burning into me with more anger than I’d ever seen contained in them. It was dangerous.
He was dangerous.
I should’ve been more scared. I shouldn’t have relaxed and tightened in his grasp at the same time, shouldn’t have been slightly excited at the cruelty in his mere presence.
But I was.
“Gage,” I breathed.
He pressed against me harder, his hand at my collarbone tightening to the point of pain. “I repeat, what in the fuck are you doing here?”
I blinked again, my mind trying to work against all the reactions that were scrambling for control.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped, anger I didn’t quite know I possessed rearing up to strike back at Gage.
He froze, as if he was as unprepared for the violent bite in my voice as I was. Then he recovered, leaning forward so his mouth almost brushed against mine. “I’m here on club business,” he murmured. “I fit in here. This place, in the dirty and depraved shadows, that’s where I belong. That’s where I operate. I make sense here. I blend into the darkness. You do not. You’re a fucking beacon in this place. And the vermin around here can fuckin’ smell your sweetness amongst the bitter.”
His boots kicked my tennis shoes apart and I gasped as he stepped between my legs, his body almost pressing into the core of me, the part that was soft and craving his hardness.
“I’m not sure whether you need to consider yourself lucky it was me who snapped you up and not one of these other lowlifes.” His lips brushed against my neck, and my entire body erupted into fire and ice at the same time. “I don’t know if you’re gonna thank me or damn me when I’m finally done with you.” His mouth was gone and his eyes were tattooing his glare onto my soul. “If I ever decide to be done with you.”
I wanted to escape his gaze. The brutal truth behind it. The way it snatched me, not gentle or tender, but rough and almost painful. But perfect in the pain.
“So I’m gonna repeat my question, baby, and maybe if you answer me now, I might go easy on you.” His hand trailed up the side of my face. “Or maybe I won’t, depending on what you want. What are you doing out here?”
I wanted to speak. To move. But I didn’t want to run away. Didn’t want to talk. I wanted to tell him to do his worst. To snatch his face and press it against mine. For him to take me, against the car, against the demons running around the street, running behind our eyes.
But I couldn’t seem to speak, or move my limbs. It was all I could do just to inhale and exhale.
He let out a frustrated growl at my silence, and I was terrified at what was going to come next. But I was darkly excited for it too. I craved him to fulfill his depraved promise. Because despite all of our intense, erotic, and earth-shattering moments together, we hadn’t even kissed.
But instead of crossing the short distance between our mouths, he yanked backward, the cold air a slap to my face.
I didn’t realize he had a phone against his ear until he all but growled into it.
“Lucky,” he clipped. “Need you to come out to hope in a cage. Bring whatever prospect is around.” His eyes never left mine, his hand still pressing me into the car. “Lauren’s boss’s car is outside The Dive. Keys are gonna be on top of the front tire. You haul ass, ’cause it’s only a matter of time before some asshole gets curious about a car like that on a street like this. And if I have to kill someone who thinks he can steal a car my woman’s driving, I’ll be dis-fucking-pleased.”
He hung up and was dragging me across the street before I could properly understand what he was doing. The chrome of his bike glinted against the flickering streetlights that were few and far between. It wouldn’t do well to have illumination when dealing drugs. Darkness was needed for dark deeds.
We came to a jarring stop beside the bike, my brain buzzing with everything and nothing at the same time.
“Get on the fucking bike, Lauren,” Gage snapped.