Page 11 of The Edge of Intensity

A shiver runs through me. Not due to the evening breeze, but because I’m overheated by Rourke’s words and closeness. He’s staring down at me and all I can do is slightly part my lips and keep my eyes locked with his.

My heart is pounding and it feels as if it’s slamming against my rib cage. My brain jumped onto a freight train and I’m momentarily locked in whatever trance Rourke put me in. His calloused fingers slide over my bare shoulder, onto my neck until he gently cups the back of my head to pull me close.

At the same time, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. A kiss. Rourke is kissing me. My eyes close and I bury my fist into his leather vest to keep myself from floating away. That’s what it feels like. Floating. I have no thoughts at all. I’m caught off-guard, swooped away, and prevented from doing anything other than feeling what he’s doing.

Tingling spreads from my lips down to my nipples, my belly, my clit. Sensory overload and the scariest thing? I want more. His tongue breaches my mouth, warm and prodding, swirling against mine. Did I just moan? He definitely growled because I felt the vibration every-freaking-where. I’m now groaning in objection when his mouth leaves mine.

Rourke curses and pulls me flush against his body, his arms wrapping around me as he places his chin on the top of my head. “Fucking hell, woman. You taste like you’re meant to be mine, and it’s a flavor made to last a lifetime.”

He pulls away again and cups the side of my head when he says with a determined voice, “Come on, let’s go for a ride. We have much to discuss and what just happened is only a fragment of it.”

I frown and am still at a loss for words when he asks, “Do you need to saddle up or are you gonna ride Fletch with just the neck rope?”

I shake my head in an effort to clear the fog he created and mutter, “The rope is enough, and I don’t even need that but it’s what I prefer when I’m working.”

Rourke leans forward and gives me a boost.

“I could have made Fletch bow, it’s one of the first things I taught him because he was too big for me to jump on,” I grumble.

“So you’ve told me. I just like helping out my old lady, me being a gentleman deep down and all.” The annoying man shoots me a wink and opens the paddock fence for me.

I glare at Rourke while I guide Fletch out. Rourke closes the paddock and takes the reins of his own horse. I watch his muscled thighs in jeans, along with his tight ass as he mounts his horse when I realize what he just called me; his old lady.

I’m about to ask why he called me that–knowing about the meaning since we talked a lot the past few days and some was about his club and brotherhood–when he says, “We think they killed Winfield, revenge for Buckey, and we could be next.”

“What?” I gasp and bring Fletch to a stop by leaning slightly back.

Rourke winces. “I’m sorry, but with you coming over these past few days, working with Buckey? They might have had eyes on us and saw you. I have no clue if you could be a target as well, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“What does that mean?” I warily ask.

Rourke clicks his tongue and his horse starts to move again. I let Fletch fall in step beside her.

He stays silent for way too long, so I ask again, “What does that mean?”

“That shit is fucked-up,” Rourke states with a pained voice.

“No shit,” I deadpan.

His head turns my way. “I don’t care about the blowback the club will be hit with. We’ll handle whatever comes our way, always have, always will. Hell, my parents did it before me so we’re not going down any time soon. What I’m talking about is me and you.”

I frown and wonder why he’s worried about me and him.

“You should be worried about yourself and all the others,” I mutter and let my fingers slide through Fletch’s manes.

“I’m staying the night at your place, East,” he states.

My eyes widen and I instantly fire back, “No, you’re not.”

“Yes,” he growls. “I most certainly will. I cannot leave you unprotected. Now do you understand why I told you it’ll fuck up shit between us?”

I fall silent and try not to panic. The frustration in his voice, along with the expression on his face, shows he’s struggling with what he just mentioned makes me pause. I like spending time with him and definitely like my body’s reaction to everything he does to me.

My mind is all jumbled, my body along with it. Maybe I’m hiding behind my beloved wall I made myself to keep everything and everyone out of my personal space. I don’t think I’m ready, if I’ll ever be ready at all. Though, if I believe that…then I never will.

“Please say something. I can see in your eyes that you’re rambling to yourself inside your head.”

I jut out my chin. “You don’t know what goes on inside my head.”

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