Page 7 of Tempest

Tempest’s bike stood among the others, its chrome gleaming in the late afternoon sun. My breath caught. He was here.

“Now or never, Kasen,” I whispered, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

I took one step forward, then another. The clubhouse door swung open, spilling laughter and the acrid scent of cigarette smoke into the air. And there he was.

Tempest stepped out, his massive frame filling the doorway. His eyes, hard as steel, scanned the lot before landing on me. I saw the flicker of recognition, the slight narrowing of his gaze.

My mouth went dry. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to hide, to go back to playing it safe.

I lifted my chin and met Tempest’s stare head-on. “We need to talk.” I called out, my voice steadier than I felt.

Tempest’s eyebrow arched, a hint of surprise breaking through his intimidating facade. He took a step toward me, and I braced myself for whatever came next.

“Talk?” His voice was gravel and whiskey. “About what?”

I swallowed hard. “Us.”

His eyes narrowed. “There is no us.”

“Bullshit,” I snapped, surprising myself. “You’ve been watching me. Following me.”

“It’s my job to keep an eye on things,” Tempest snapped back.

“On me, you mean?” I stepped closer, emboldened by anger. “I’m not a child anymore, Tempest.”

His gaze raked over me, leaving fire in its wake. “I know.”

The admission hung between us, electric.

“Then why --”

“You’re Tank’s daughter,” he growled. “Off-limits.”

I laughed, bitter and sharp. “That’s not your call to make.”

I could see the battle raging behind his eyes. “Kasen,” he warned, voice low. “Don’t push this.”

I closed the distance between us, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. “Or what?”

His control snapped. In one fluid motion, Tempest’s hand cupped the back of my neck, pulling me against him. His lips crashed into mine, hungry and desperate.

I melted into the kiss, months of pent-up desire exploding between us. My fingers twisted in his shirt, anchoring myself as the world spun.

When we finally broke apart, both gasping for air, I saw the raw need in Tempest’s eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

I nodded, unable to form words.

“This changes everything,” he murmured.

I nodded, heart racing. “I’m counting on it.”

Tempest’s grip on my neck tightened, eyes blazing with conflicting emotions. Desire. Anger. Fear.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he growled, his breath hot against my cheek.

I met his gaze unflinchingly. “Try me.”

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