Page 40 of Rage's Heart

The machine clicked through four photos: us kissing, Mac sticking her tongue out while I smirked, Mac with hooded eyes after I told her how I was going to lick her pussy until she screamed my name, and finally, one with my arm around her, both of us smiling at the camera.

When the strip of photos dispensed, she grabbed it immediately, examining our pictures with a grin that made her whole face light up. “These are perfect.”

I took the strip from her fingers, carefully tearing it down the middle before handing her the top half.

When we stepped out of the booth, I realized how late it had gotten and that it was time to head back to Jacksonville.

“Penny for your thoughts,“ I said, noticing how quiet she’d become as we walked back to my bike.

She smiled up at me. “Just thinking that I don’t want tonight to end.”

I stopped walking and turned her to face her. “It doesn’t have to,” I murmured, searching her eyes.

Her pulse jumped visibly at her throat. “Your place or mine?”

My lips curved into a slow smile.

“Mine,” I said, not bothering to hide the roughness in my voice. “I want you in my bed again, McKenzie. Where I can take my time.”

Her eye lids drooped. “Yes, please.”

As we sped through the night, I caught myself glancing at my side mirror more than necessary, just to catch glimpses of her.

Tonight had been different.

Who was I kidding? Everything about the woman at my back was different.

She had me obsessing about her every waking hour of the fucking day. She had me feeling homicidal when I thought of someone else touching her.

I was utterly fucked when it came to her.

And for once in my life, there was no fighting it.

She was mine and I was never letting her go.

Chapter Twelve

Mac

The rumble of Rage’s Harley vibrated through my body as we pulled into the parking lot in front of the clubhouse.

Breath Mac. Breath.

My stomach rolled as I swung my leg off the bike, taking in the scene before me.

More than a dozen motorcycles were already lined up in a neat row, their paint gleaming under the afternoon sun. Music drifted from somewhere behind the large two-story building, along with the sounds of laughter and the unmistakable smell of barbecue.

“You okay?” Rage asked, his voice low as he stepped up beside me, one hand going to the small of my back.

I nodded, smoothing my hands over my fitted jean shorts for the hundredth time. “Just a little nervous.”

His lips twitched. “It’s going to be okay, babe. They don’t bite. Well, except for Killer, but he’s had all his shots.”

I laughed despite myself, some of the tension in my shoulders easing. “Good to know.”

It had been a week since the night he took me to the Boardwalk in Odin.

We’d stolen moments between my shifts at the hospital and his insane schedule at Saints Ink. Every time we were together, it got harder to leave.

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