Reaper's Fire

But where could it possibly go?

All I really knew about this guy were the lies he’d told me.

Remember, this is about having fun. You don’t need to marry the man. Just the thought soothed me as I watched Gage walk to the porch. Offering Dad and Mrs. Webbly a shaky smile, I stepped outside, feeling like a girl going to a high school dance. How long had it been since I’d had a date?

Since before I’d married Brandon.

“Hey,” I called to Gage, waving a hand limply, deciding I didn’t care for dating. I’d had sex with this man less than twelve hours ago, yet here we were. Awkward. Pretending to go through some ancient courting ritual when we’d already slept with each other seemed a bit silly.

You just want to get laid again.

(Yeah. I really did.)

I stepped down the stairs, meeting Gage at the bottom. He hooked a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in for a fast, hot kiss that stopped all those pesky thoughts. Pure heat replaced them, and I leaned into his body, taking in his scent with a relief so intense it’s hard to explain. Standing near him felt right. Safe.

You’re infatuated, moron, my common sense pointed out. Your brain isn’t working right.

I told my common sense to fuck off, then wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

“Get a room!” Mrs. Webbly shouted, and I jerked away guiltily. My elderly tenant and father were standing on the porch, watching us with smirks on their faces. Gage laughed, but I groaned.

“They could at least pretend to give us privacy,” I muttered.

“That doesn’t seem to be the way you do things around here,” Gage said, turning me slowly but firmly toward his bike. We walked over to it—their eyes burning into my back—and I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me to dress for a motorcycle ride. (Probably because I wasn’t a motorcycle kind of girl. Duh.) Gage handed me a helmet, and I raised a hand to touch my carefully styled hair.

“You know, I never considered that we’d be riding your bike,” I admitted. Gage raised a brow, a knowing smile crossing his face.

“You’re a hell of a rider, or at least you were last night in bed. You weren’t worried about your hair then. Sometimes you gotta let go and enjoy a little, Tinker. Tonight’s for fun, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, feeling silly and almost shy. “So how does this thing work?”

“You put it on your head,” he replied gently, and I rolled my eyes. “Then I’ll take you for a ride before we grab some dinner at Jack’s.”

“You’re a smartass.”

“You get off on it.”

Reaching for the helmet, I shrugged, pretending he wasn’t right about that.

• • •

Five minutes later we’d pulled away from the house. My arms were wrapped tight around his waist and his butt was cradled in my hips, something that gave me no small pleasure (the vibration of the bike between my legs didn’t exactly hurt, either). You’d think that sleeping with him the night before would’ve taken off the edge. If anything, it’d gotten worse—I knew how good Gage was in the sack, and I wanted more.

The sun was still bright, although it was low in the sky. Air rushed by my face as we headed toward the hills and I wondered where he was taking me. Not that I particularly cared. The last year and a half had been hellish, every moment of every day a crisis. Tonight, though . . . tonight I didn’t have to accomplish anything.

Tonight I got to relax and enjoy.

After what felt like no time at all, Gage pulled off the highway onto a county road, and I realized where he was taking me. Malachi Ridge. Not a bad call—the mountain had an incredible view and lots of places where a couple could spend a few minutes getting to know each other in the privacy of the trees. Just the thought made me grin.

Gage was taking me to a makeout place!

It was cheesy and silly and wonderful all at once, because I hadn’t done something this fun in years. By the time we pulled over at the top of the ridge, my entire body hummed with anticipation. Gage must’ve been feeling the same thing, because as he turned off the big bike’s engine, he reached down to catch my hand, pushing it toward the bulge of his pants. I copped a feel and laughed.

My biker tenant wanted me just as bad as I wanted him, no question.

“So your plan is to take me up here and . . . ?”

Gage caught my thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Well, I was thinkin’ we could fuck. Sorta wanted to drag you back to my apartment before we left, but I figured this might be better under the circumstances. Not that I care what your dad and Mary Webbly see, but—”

“I care,” I said, finishing the sentence. I rubbed his dick slowly, imagining it inside of me. Yum. “It’s a strange dynamic, living with your dad at my age. At least he was focused today.”

He squeezed my fingers before pulling them away from his package.

“We better get off the bike before I strain something.”

“Hey, I was just trying to be friendly.”

“Let me grab a blanket, and then you can be friendly on your back.”

• • •

While Gage had clearly been to Malachi Ridge before, I knew it a hell of a lot better than he did. We’d been coming here since I was a kid, first for picnics with my folks and then with my friends during high school. Carrie had lost her virginity to Darren up here, a night I remembered all too well. They’d subjected me and Margarita to their endless making-out noises in the backseat all evening, so when they finally stumbled off to do the deed, we’d been thrilled to get rid of them.

Since then, I’d always associated the ridge with parties. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was, though. Gage laid out the blanket on a patch of soft grass above rockfall, leaving us with a gorgeous, open view of the valley.

Catching my hand, Gage pulled me in for another of those powerful kisses he was so good at delivering. I melted into him, allowing myself to simply feel as his hand ran down my back, pressing me into his body. His chest was firm with muscle, and the arms holding me were tight and strong. Everything about him radiated sexy man—even his smell was sexy. Not that he wore any cologne or anything . . . it was all him.

Male.

His hands grew more urgent, pulling me down with him to the blanket. The soft ache I’d felt between my legs all day roared to life, sending shivers rushing through me. The need grew as he rolled over me, thrusting a knee between mine, separating and opening me for his touch.