Page 56 of Emmy's Ride

Austin sat at the head of the table, flanked by Tank, Jax, and a few of his other men. They all turned to look at me, some surprised, some wary, some openly hostile to a woman invading their sacred domain.

Austin’s gaze locked on to mine.

“What the hell did you do?” I demanded, stepping inside.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Emmy?—”

“You roughed up Noah’s father? You threatened him?” I took a step closer, eyes blazing. “You can’t just use violence to solve every damn problem, Austin!”

The room had gone completely silent.

I could see it in his posture, the way his shoulders tensed, the glint of something dangerous in his eyes. I had just disrespected him in front of his men.

Austin stood, his chair scraping against the floor. In two strides, he was in front of me.

“You do not bust in here and question me in front of my brothers,” he growled.

Before I could respond, he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.

“Austin!” I shrieked, kicking my legs, pounding my fists against his back. “Put me down, you asshole!”

His men chuckled, but no one tried to intervene. He carried me through the clubhouse like a caveman, ignoring my struggles, my curses, my outright threats to kick him in the balls.

When we reached his office, he kicked the door open, stepped inside, and slammed it shut behind us. Finally, he set me down.

I shoved him, my anger blinding. “You son of a?—”

Austin grabbed my wrists, holding me still. “You don’t get to question me like that in front of my men, Emmy. If you were a man doing that, you wouldn’t have walked out of there.” His voice wasn’t raised, but there was no missing the warning in it.

I glowered up at him. “And you don’t get to decide how I react when you pull this kind of shit! Do you even realize what you did?”

Austin’s expression didn’t change. “Yeah. I made sure a kid wouldn’t get beaten within an inch of his life again.”

“You used violence!”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “And what the hell do you think keeps you safe, sweetheart? You think the men who shot at you were going to be handled with therapy sessions? With kind words? Sometimes, violence is the only thing that works. And whether you want to admit it or not, you’re glad Noah is safe. His father is trash, and I took care of it when you, or the school, or any of your fancy agencies couldn’t.”

He was right… and I hated it. Hated that I felt relief. He’d given Noah the one thing I’d never been able to. A chance.

Hated that, deep down, I knew Austin to be the kind of man who would burn the world down for the people he cared about.

I hated that I wanted him.

Austin saw it all. His grip on my wrists loosened, his fingers trailing up my arms, his touch shifting from possessive to something else entirely, and I shivered.

The air between us crackled, charged with unspoken words and a tension neither of us could deny. My breath came fast, my chest rising and falling against Austin’s. His grip on my waist was firm, holding me in place as if daring me to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

His eyes burned into mine, dark and knowing. Too knowing.

"You hate it," he murmured, voice rough with restraint. His lips hovered just inches from mine, teasing, tempting. "But you love it too."

My fingers curled into fists at my sides, my nails pressing into my palms as I tried to summon a denial. I should tell him no. Should push him away.

But before I could even think, his mouth crashed into mine.

This was fire and fury, heat and rage, a battle as much as it was a kiss.

Austin’s fingers combed into my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp, to tilt my head back and give him complete access to my mouth. He didn’t waste it. His tongue swept against mine, demanding, setting my world ablaze.

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