Page 8 of Tempest

“This isn’t a game, Kasen. The club, your father --”

“I don’t care,” I interrupted, my voice stronger than I felt. “I’m tired of pretending. Aren’t you?”

Tempest’s eyes darkened. In one swift motion, he pulled me around the corner of the clubhouse, away from prying eyes. My back hit the rough brick wall, his body caging me in.

“You want this?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. “You want to risk everything?”

I swallowed hard, pulse racing. “Yes.”

Tempest’s hand slid from my neck to cup my face, his touch surprisingly gentle. “There’s no going back from this. You understand that?”

I nodded, leaning into his touch. “I’ve wanted this -- wanted you -- for years, Tempest. I’m not backing down now.”

Something shifted in his eyes. Before I realized what was happening, his lips crashed into mine again, harder this time. Demanding. I matched his intensity, pouring years of longing into the kiss. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

Tempest groaned, the sound vibrating through me. His hands roamed my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I arched into him, desperate for more.

Suddenly, he pulled back. I whimpered at the loss.

“Not here,” he panted, resting his forehead against mine. “Not like this.”

Reality came crashing back. We were still outside the clubhouse. Anyone could walk by.

“Your place,” I suggested, breathless. “Now.”

Tempest nodded, his eyes dark with promise. “Lead the way, little girl.”

As we untangled ourselves and headed for his bike, I knew there was no turning back. Whatever came next, I was all in.

Chapter Three

Kasen

I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, as Tempest’s house loomed ahead. My heart thundered in my chest, threatening to burst. What the hell was I doing?

The rumble of his bike was a constant reminder he was right behind me. I couldn’t shake the image of his piercing gaze, a mix of curiosity and concern etched on his rugged features.

“Get it together, Kasen,” I muttered, willing my racing thoughts to slow.

But they wouldn’t. They kept circling back to Tempest -- his intensity, his barely contained anger, the way he commanded respect with just a look. I’d been infatuated since I was sixteen, but this? This was madness.

The bike’s engine roared louder as Tempest pulled up beside me. I stopped the car and rolled down my window.

“You okay?” His gruff voice carried over the rumble of the engine.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I didn’t give him a chance to ask anything else and took off. Tempest matched my speed effortlessly.

We were getting close now. Too close. Panic clawed at my throat. What if someone from the club saw us? What would they think? What would my dad think?

Tempest’s house appeared around the bend. My palms were slick with sweat as I eased off the gas. This was it. No turning back now.

I pulled into his driveway, my breath coming in short gasps. Tempest circled around, parking his bike with practiced ease. As he dismounted, his eyes never left me.

This was either the bravest or dumbest thing I’d ever done. Probably both. Was I making a mistake? This was huge! He’d told me there would be no going back. The more I thought about it, the more worried I became.

I turned off the engine, my hand trembling as I reached for the door handle. Then I saw him. Viking. Across the street, hunched over a sleek black motorcycle, his massive frame impossible to miss.

My stomach dropped. Of all the people to be here, it had to be the Road Captain. I froze, one foot on the driveway, torn between fleeing and facing whatever storm I’d just walked into.

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