Page 7 of Gage

“Long as Tomas knows where you are, yeah.”

“That sounds like the same thing with fewer syllables.”

“Pretty much.” I leaned against the bar.

She left the plate in the rack and we walked back to the hallway until we were outside her room. “And you’re going to just keep watching me?”

“Yep.”

“I can see you’re a big talker,” she replied.

My attention dropped to the open collar of her blouse before I dragged it back to her face. She caught me and looked more amused than offended, which didn’t help.

“You’ve been checking me out since the gate. You know that? Mostly like you’re waiting for my father to show up in everything I do.” Her gaze dropped to my mouth. “Except for when you look at me like that.”

I didn’t bother pretending I misunderstood. “That part started before you drove through our gate.”

“Sounds like your problem.”

“It is. More than you know.”

The answer seemed to catch her off guard, but only for a second. She stepped closer until there was barely room between us. “So what are you checking now?”

“Everything.”

Her eyes went to my mouth. One hand curled into the edge of my cut, and then she kissed me.

Restraint lasted until her lips parted under mine. I gripped her waist and turned us away from the bar, backing her into the darkened hall without breaking the kiss. She pulled me closer by the leather while her other hand slid over my chest, and every useful thought I had started losing ground.

She bit my lower lip hard enough to make my grip tighten, then pressed closer like she wanted the reaction. I gave it to her, kissing her harder until her back met the wall beside her door and her fingers slid beneath my cut toward my belt.

I caught her hand before she got there. “We’re stopping.”

She looked up at me, flushed and pissed. “You think I want you to stop?”

“Fuck no.” I pressed her palm flat against me so she could feel exactly how much I didn’t. “But I’m still checking your story, and I’m not getting you naked while half my head’s doing that.”

Her eyes flashed. “You still don’t trust me?”

“I’m just not so dumb as to let a woman wreck my judgment by fucking her before I know what she’s really about.”

She let her hand fall, but the look she gave me promised she wasn’t forgetting this. I opened her door and stepped back. “Want me gone?”

Elena looked at my mouth once more. “If you’re stopping, yes.”

She shut it in my face. The lock turned a second later, and I walked back toward the bar with my dick hard and my judgment only marginally better than it had been five minutes earlier.

CHAPTER 3

ELENA

Beyond the wall, an impact wrench hammered, boots crossed the hallway and the old union hall shook itself into motion around me. The room was barely wider than the narrow bed and the cabinet shoved against one wall. Somebody had found clean sheets and towels after Gage had showed me inside, but nobody had tried to pretend it was meant for guests. I dressed from the single bag I'd managed to bring and opened the door.

A mug of coffee waited on the floor beside it. Gage stood at the far end of the corridor, talking to a man in a grease-marked shirt and cut. His black cut sat over a plain T-shirt, and the SERGEANT-AT-ARMS patch was visible when he turned. My mouth remembered the kiss he'd stopped before the rest of me had the sense to look at the mug. The other man headed toward the front of the clubhouse.

“Is leaving coffee outside people's doors part of club security?” I asked.

“You looked ready to kill for some last night. I figured caffeine was your thing.”