Page 10 of The Biker's Single Mom
"Maybe not," I interrupt softly. "But you're a safe one."
Something shifts in his expression, a crack in the armor he wears so completely. He sets his beer down with deliberate care, then turns to face me fully.
"You shouldn't trust me," he says, but he's moving closer, crowding me against the railing. "You shouldn't..."
But I'm already lifting my face to his, drawn by a gravity I can't fight anymore. His hand comes up to cup my jaw, calloused palm rough against my skin. For a heartbeat, he hesitates, searching my eyes for permission or refusal.
I give him neither, simply rising on my tiptoes to press my mouth to his.
The kiss ignites like gasoline hitting flame. His arms wrap around me, lifting me effortlessly until we're pressed together from chest to thigh. My hands find his hair, tangling in the dark waves, holding him to me as his tongue sweeps into my mouth with hungry possession.
He tastes like beer and desire and danger, all the things I've denied myself for so long. His beard scrapes deliciously againstmy skin as he angles his head, deepening the kiss until I'm dizzy with it.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it's over. Daniel tears his mouth from mine with a curse, setting me back on my feet and stepping away. His chest heaves with ragged breaths that match my own.
"We can't," he growls, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't—you're not thinking clearly. You're scared, grateful. I won't take advantage of that."
I should be offended by his assumptions about my state of mind, but all I can focus on is the heat still pulsing between us, the lingering taste of him on my lips.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," I tell him, my voice steadier than I feel. "And what I want."
His eyes darken, desire warring with restraint. "It's not that simple."
"It never is," I agree. "But sometimes, Daniel, the complicated thing and the right thing are the same."
I leave him there on the deck, my body humming with unfulfilled need and the certainty that something irreversible has shifted between us. For better or worse, there's no going back to whatever safe distance we might have maintained.
For the first time in years, I feel something dangerously close to hope.
Chapter 4 – Daniel
I can't get the taste of her out of my head.
I still feel the ghost of her lips, still catch myself running my tongue along the edge of my teeth like I might find her there. Her scent clings to my clothes, floral and warm.
This isn't who I am. I don't fixate on women. Don't let them crawl under my skin.
Yet here I sit in the garage office, staring at the same invoice for the third time, seeing nothing but the curve of her neck, the fire in her eyes when she challenges me, the way her borrowed shirt skimmed her thighs.
"Fuck," I mutter, shoving the paperwork aside.
Hawk looks up from the parts catalog he's flipping through. "Problem?"
"No." My tone makes it clear the subject is closed.
He grins anyway, because Hawk's never met a boundary he didn't want to push. "Sure about that? Because you've been growling like a bear with a thorn in its paw since yesterday."
I level a stare at him that would make most men back down. Hawk just shrugs and returns to his catalog, still smirking.
My phone buzzes with a text from Devil:Movement near the county line. Three SUVs heading toward town. Same model as yesterday.
The distraction is almost welcome until I process what it means. Ricci's men, coming back with reinforcements. Coming for Daisy. For Violet.
I text back:Location?
The response is immediate:County Road 17, eastbound. ETA to town 15 minutes.
"Saddle up," I tell Hawk, already moving toward the door. "We've got company coming."
