Page 21 of Her Possessive Bikers

"Well, you know where to find more now." I cringe at how eager that sounds.

We walk to the front door, our steps echoing in the quiet house. The porch light casts shadows across his face, highlighting the silver in his beard. He turns to face me, and suddenly the space between us feels charged.

"Indy." His voice is rough. He reaches up, his fingers ghosting along my cheek. My breath catches.

His phone buzzes again. "Fuck," he mutters, dropping his hand.

I lean against the doorframe, my heart hammering. "Duty calls?"

"Always does." He steps closer, and I catch the scent of leather and something uniquely him. His breath fans across my face. "But I'd rather-"

A third buzz. He closes his eyes, jaw clenching.

"Go." I smile, even as disappointment coils in my stomach. "Your kingdom needs you."

"Thanks for the bike, I'll take real good care of her." His eyes lock with mine, intense enough to make my knees weak.

"Promise?" The word slips out before I can stop it.

Instead of answering, he leans in. For a heartbeat, I think he's going to kiss me. His lips hover near mine, close enough I can feel the heat of him. Then he pulls back, leaving me breathless and aching.

"Lock up behind me," he says, voice gruff. He strides to his truck, every movement radiating tension.

I watch until his taillights disappear into the darkness, then press my forehead against the cool doorframe. "Holy shit."

12

JACOBY

The rumble of my bike echoes off the storefronts as I cruise down Main, scanning faces for our troublemakers. Word on the street is Dos Banditos plan to use the shift in President roles within Luci's to their advantage.

My knuckles itch for action, but so far nothing. Then I spot that sweet Chevelle pulling into Murphy's Gas & Go, and suddenly my priorities shift.

I swing my bike into the lot, kicking up loose gravel as I park next to the muscle car. Indy steps out, looking like a dream in cut offs and a white damn tank top.

"Need a hand with that, darlin'?" I hop off my bike and stride over before she can reach for the pump.

"I think I can manage." She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Been doing it myself for years now."

"Come on, pretty women shouldn't have to pump their own gas." I grab the nozzle, flashing her my best smile. "Let a gentleman help out."

"A gentleman?" She snorts, leaning against the car. "That what you're calling yourself these days, Jacoby?"

"I can be whatever you want me to be." I wink, starting to pump the gas.

"How about useful? Since you're so intent on helping." She pulls a cloth from her back pocket and holds it out. "Window's looking pretty grimy."

"Oh, so I'm your errand boy now?"

"Hey, you volunteered." Her hazel eyes sparkle with mischief. "Unless that gentleman act was just for show?"

"Sweetheart, I never do anything just for show." I take the cloth, making sure our fingers brush. "But you're gonna owe me one."

"Put it on my tab." She grins, and damn if it doesn't light up her whole face.

The pump clicks off and I replace the nozzle, watching her dig for her wallet. "This one's on me."

"I don't need charity."

---