Page 11 of My Protective Biker

He kisses me again and this time it's deeper, more deliberate. His hands move, one sliding down to grip my hip with enough pressure that I feel it through my jeans, fingers digging into the soft flesh there.

The other stays in my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me harder. I grip his shoulders and hold on, kissing him back with everything I've got.

Then we hear it. The creak of a door opening inside the house.

We separate fast, both breathing hard. Zoe's bedroom door. She's probably just going to the bathroom or getting water, but the sound breaks the moment completely.

Roan steps back and we're both aware suddenly that we're on his front porch where his daughter could walk out any second and see us.

"I should go," I say, even though I don't want to.

"Yeah." His voice is rough.

I get in my car before I can change my mind, hands trembling slightly as I start the engine.

Roan steps back and I can see him in my rearview mirror as I pull out, standing in the driveway watching me leave.

The drive home takes eight minutes and I spend all of them trying to catch my breath.

My lips are swollen, my skin too warm, and I can still feel exactly where his hands were on my body. The way he gripped my hip like he wanted to pull me even closer, the hard length of him pressed against me through our clothes.

I park in my driveway and sit there with the engine off, touching my fingers to my mouth.

Tomorrow Zoe picks up Hamlet. Which means I'll see him again.

And I have absolutely no idea what happens after that kiss except that something fundamental just shifted and there's no going back.

I finally get out and head inside, lock the door behind me and lean against it with my eyes closed and my heart still beating too hard.

I want him. He wants me.

And I think I'm willing to risk everything I came here to build to find out where this goes.

Chapter 4 — Roan

I lie in bed staring at the ceiling and I know sleep isn't happening tonight.

It's past eleven and all I can think about is the way Carina felt pressed against me, the soft sound she made when I pulled her closer, the taste of her mouth and how she gripped my shoulders like she needed the anchor.

I get up. Pour water I don't drink. Stand at the kitchen sink looking out at nothing.

I've been managing risk for years. Keeping Zoe safe meant keeping my world small, keeping vulnerabilities manageable, not giving Marrow or anyone else leverage points to exploit.

Perry beaten because of his brother. Ray hospitalized because of Diesel. The pattern is clear.

Anyone I care about becomes a target.

But lying here wanting Carina badly enough that my chest aches with it, I'm starting to see the flaw in my math. Zoe's already at risk just from being mine.

The threat is constant whether I'm alone or not. Distance doesn't eliminate danger, just means I'm carrying it by myself.

I go back to bed. Check my phone. Eleven-fifteen.

Close my eyes and see dark green eyes and the specific curve of her hip under my hand.

My phone rings at eleven forty-seven.

I'm reaching for it before the second ring, already moving because calls this late mean one thing.