Page 21 of Target

I do as she says, ignoring the looks from my brothers. As I watch her push past me, heading toward the back, I see Savage glaring, but Rogue is smirking; he thinks I am crashing out.

Slapping the back of his head as I pass, I chase after my girl, because fuck me she will be mine by the end of the night. I push through the crowd, ignoring the women as they step into my path; I even have my butt fucking pinched. What the hell?

If I did that to some chick I would be arrested. Talk about double standards.

I push through the doors that lead to the outside patio of the bar, the night heat slapping me in the face like a fucking fire stick. I find Madalyn leaning forward, with both of her hands resting on the rail in front of her, looking out across the manmade lake that sits at the back of the property.

“Why did you follow me, Target?” Her voice is softer than it was inside. Almost resigned, but I have no fucking idea why.

“I want to know what had you turning into the Ice Queen inside.”

Leaning my hip against the rail next to her, I move close enough that I can smell her sweet lemon scent and it is enough to drive me fucking wild.

Her rust-colored eyes meet mine, her face passive. It’s like she is afraid to answer my question, not wanting to see my reaction. Leaning in, I kiss her bare shoulder, and she whimpers at the touch, before stepping back.

“STOP IT. You cannot do that, Target. Oh my god, you are making me the other woman, for fucks sake. Why is that men as hot as you always think that you can get away with cheating? You are hurting your wife and your kids. My ex shacked up with his other woman when I broke things off with him and now they are having a baby not even six months after I ended it. Like come the fuck on. Hell, she was fucking pregnant when we were together, no wonder he jumped right back into her bed. She was waiting for him, but fuck no. I will not be that person. God, bikers are all the fucking same. I learned my lesson and it is one I do not wantto repeat.” She is panting after her rant is finished, but hell, my fire for her is burning and I need to taste her.

Gripping her face, I slam my lips onto hers making her yelp, giving me access to her mouth.

My tongue tangles with hers, making her moan when she kisses me back. Her hands grip my belt, holding me in place, like she is momentarily stunned that she is kissing me.

My cock is hard as steel between us, pressing against her stomach, as I devour her mouth.

She snaps herself away from me, panting. Her hand goes to her mouth, and she looks at me with wide wild eyes, but I see her arousal shining back at me. Smirking, I step closer but she backs up again.

“Stop. You are married.”

“Baby, I am not married.”

She is shaking her head.

“Yes you are. I saw you with her. She came to collect your kids, or maybe they are not your kids. Hell, I do not know, but they called her ‘Mommy,’ then you kissed her.”

I can’t help but laugh at her word vomit, making her scowl at me, crossing her arms in front of her body.

“Do not laugh at me, Target,” she snaps.

I fucking love her fire. Gone is the shy girl from the first day we met, and the blushing woman in my dreams. Standing in front me is a woman ready to cut me at the knees, and is fanning the fire inside of me.

“Damn, I fucking want you.” I grin, my cock throbbing between my legs.

“NO!” she cries.

I pin her against the wall that she backed herself up to, grinning like a fucking cat that got the canary.

“Baby, I am not married. Not anymore. Those kids were mine. They are twins. Rex and Emmi. I am still good friends withtheir mom, and nothing will change that.” I add the last part with a firmness to my voice so there no dispute that she does not know what Ruth means to me.

“But you kissed her.” Her voice is quieter now.

Her breathing has calmed, but I see it hitch when I bring my hand up to cup her jaw, my thumbs brushing over her bottom lip that is swollen from our kiss.

“I did.” I nod. “I have a very close relationship with Ruth, not only for the kids’ sake but we still have a connection, but, baby, I am not sleeping with her. I haven’t touched her in nine years.”

“How old are the twins?” I grin at her question; she is trying to work it out.

“They are ten.” I grin. “If it makes you feel better, Ruth is remarried to a great man, and they have a baby of their own.”

Her body sags, making my smile wider, seeing that she is finally getting it.

---