Page 44 of Red My Lips

“You wish.” I roll my eyes, but Gage’s arms flex around me.

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m getting up now. And you’re going to let me.” This time, when I pull away from him, he lets me. His hands linger on my hips when I stand, giving them a greedy squeeze before I step out of his reach. If there’s one thing this man knows how to do, it’s get me wet in the middle of the club.

Walking away with his eyes on me, I know I’m in for a tough night. There’s nothing worse than being forced to serve drinks all night in drenched panties, knowing the tattoo god who’s always just a few feet away would rail you to the point of no return.

I’m screwed. But not in the way I wish I were.

Chapter Eighteen

Jill

“Gage isn’t here” are the first words out of Stevie’s mouth when I step foot inside Stained Heart Tattoos. It’s like she saw me coming from a mile away.

“Why do you assume that’s why I’m here?” I play dumb, but she sees right through me.

“Give me some credit,” she laughs. Letting out a deep breath, I relent.

“Okay, fine, that’s why I’m here,” I admit, making her grin in triumph. “Where is he?”

“He’s on a ride with the Saints. A voicemail or text is your best bet if you want to tell him something. He doesn’t check his phone when he’s on the road.”

“The Saints?” I ask, confused. “As in, the Chained Saints?” Since when is Gage part of the most notorious motorcycle gang in Chicago? How has that neve come up before.

Stevie nods, reading the question written all over my face. “His parents are brother are members, so he likes to ride with them when he can.”

His parents? His brother?

Her response has me realizing I don’t actually know that much about Gage. He seems to know every detail about me, always desperate to learn more. But what do I actually know about him? His history, family—all secrets to me.

Normally I wouldn’t care—I don’t usually bother to get to know my fuck buddies that well. It usually ruins it for me. But something about this revelation doesn’t sit well with me. I want to know the answers to the questions swirling in my head right now.

I want to know Gage.

I don’t have time for this right now.

Forcing myself back into the present, I smile at the woman in front of me.

“Ok, thanks, Stevie.” Walking out of Stained Heart Tattoos, I pull out my phone and pull up Gage’s number. Buttering him up in person was plan A, but since he’s not here, I’ll have to make do with the alternative.

The phone rings three times, and I’m expecting to leave a voicemail when the line picks up. The sound of rumbling engines coming through the phone does nothing to drown out Gage’s deep voice. “I like seeing your name show up on my phone.”

“Stevie said you’re on a ride.”

“I am.” A motorcycle engine revs as if to prove his point. “We pulled over.”

“You had the entire Chained Saints Motorcycle Club pull over on the highway so you could answer the phone?”

“You called, so I answered,” he says, making my heart flutter. “Are you missing me, little devil? You wanted to hear my voice, didn’t you? Or is there something else you miss?”

“You’re right, there is something I’m missing,” I say seductively, toying with him. “My shift today. I won’t be at work.”

“Why’s that?” His tone sobers.

“I have something else to do,” I add a little false sweetness to my voice. “Enjoy your ride.” With that, I hang up.

The drive over to the Medical Examiner building is torture and not the fun kind. Every mile I get closer adds to the ball of lead in my stomach. Pulling into the parking lot of the drab industrial building, my GPS announces that I’ve arrived at my destination. I park in a spot and slump back against my seat with a heavy breath.

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