Page 6 of Kash
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Kash growls, making me almost jump out of my skin.
Kash’s voice cuts through the night, low and rough, like gravel under boots.
After my initial shock, I freeze, my hand still on the bike.
Kash is standing on the porch, a silhouette in the dark, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Even without seeing his face, I can feel the intensity rolling off him, like a storm about to break.
My pulse spikes, but I don’t back down.
Ineverback down, ever.
And I’m not about to start now.
“Just admiring,” I say, flashing a grin. “Didn’t mean to touch your baby.”
Kash steps forward, the porch creaking under his weight. The moonlight catches his face—sharp jaw, rough stubble, that scar above his eyebrow.
No shades now, just dark eyes that pin me in place.
“You don’t touch a man’s bike,” he says, his voice a warning. “Not without permission.”
I shrug, leaning against the bike like I own it, testing him.
“Didn’t know you were so precious about it,” I say, a light tremble in my voice. “Anyway. I thought you were just passing through.”
Kash’s jaw tightens, and he closes the distance between us, stopping just close enough that I can smell leather and smoke on him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Spike,” Kash says, his voice dropping lower, almost a growl. “You don’t know me. And that’s probably for the best.”
“Maybe I want to know you,” I shoot back, holding his gaze.
Those eyes—fuck, they’re intense, like they could burn right through me. My skin’s buzzing, my body reacting to the way he’s looking at me, all stern and commanding. I’ve always had a thing for guys who take charge, but Kash is on another level.
He’s not just some biker. He’s a force.
“You need to walk away,” Kash says, but there’s a crack in his voice, a hint of something else. Want. Need. It’s enough to make me push harder.
“What if I don’t?” I step closer, close enough that our chests almost touch. I’m shorter than him, but I’m not intimidated. I’ve faced down bigger guys than Kash, used my cunning, and walked away smiling. “What you gonna do about it?”
For a second, I think he’s gonna shove me back, tell me to fuck off.
But then Kash’s hand shoots out, grabbing my wrist—not hard, but firm, like he’s claiming me.
My breath catches, and I don’t pull away.
His touch is electric, sending a jolt straight to my core.
“You’re trouble,” Kash mutters, his eyes searching mine, like he’s trying to figure me out.
“Told you,” I say, my voice quieter now, teasing. “Trouble’s my middle name.”
Kash lets out a low chuckle, the sound rough and warm, and it does something to me, makes my knees feel weak. His grip on my wrist tightens just a fraction, and I can see the war in his eyes—wanting me, but holding back.
“You don’t know what you’re getting into, boy,” Kash says, the wordboyhitting me like a spark.
It’s not an insult. It’s something else, something that makes my blood run hot.
“Try me,” I say, leaning in, my lips inches from his.
