“Time to talk, Tinker,” he said bluntly, pushing into the house. He caught my arm, jerking me away from the door before he slammed it shut and locked it with a decisive click. Then he walked across my mother’s prized front parlor like he owned the place, stopping next to her antique mahogany credenza.
“What’s going on?” I asked. He ignored the question, reaching back behind his vest to pull out a handgun, which he set down on one of Grandma Garrett’s hand-knitted doilies. Then he caught the end of his belt, unhooking the buckle. Wait. Why was he doing that? Talking doesn’t require taking off your belt. Oh, and there was the whole gun thing. That wasn’t exactly comforting either.
I thought about what Carrie had told me. This was a mistake, a huge mistake. I should’ve listened to her, kept my doors locked. So what if he thought I was hiding?
“Cooper, I think—”
“Gage,” he said shortly, whipping the belt out of its loops, freeing a big knife I’d never noticed him wearing before today. He dropped it next to his other weapon.
“Gage?” I asked hesitantly, swallowing. My instincts were screaming at me to make a run for it, except that was crazy. Maybe I didn’t know him very well, but if Cooper wanted to hurt me, he’d had plenty of opportunities before tonight. The back of his vest caught my attention—there was a patch in the center with a skull on it. Above it was another patch that read “Reapers,” and below a third that said “Idaho.”
I knew jack shit about motorcycle clubs, but even I’d heard of the Reapers MC. Fucking hell, what was going on here?
“My name is Gage,” he said, turning and stalking toward me.
“Your name is Gage?” I parroted weakly, taking a step back. “But I saw your ID, with your rental application.”
“Fake,” he said bluntly. “All of it was fake. Lot of shit’s gone down in the last two days. Things have changed, so it’s time for us to talk.”
Cooper—no, Gage—invaded my space, pinning me against my own front door. One hand came up, cradling my throat for an instant. I felt the strength in his tough, calloused grip and another wave of fear hit me. Unfortunately, a wave of lust hit, too, because our bodies were officially touching more than they ever had before. It felt every bit as good as I’d imagined, too. Then the hand slid upward, and he dug his fingers into my hair, pulling it loose from the hair band. Not completely, just enough for him to cradle the back of my head.
“There’s a lot of ground to cover, so I’m gonna give you the short version for now,” he said harshly, catching and holding my eyes. I swallowed as one of his thighs pushed between my legs. He surrounded me, using up more than his fair share of oxygen. It left me dizzy. “I haven’t been free since I got here. Now I am, which means I’m taking what’s mine.”
I squeaked, blinking rapidly as I tried to decide if I was scared or turned on. He leaned into me, nose brushing my ear as he took a deep breath.
“What do you mean, you’re taking . . . ?” I was so confused that I wasn’t even sure what question to ask. None of this made any sense. He’d never treated me like anything but a friend, so what the hell was going on here?
“I’m taking you,” he said with quiet force. His leg separated mine, and I felt something long and hard against my stomach. My hormones surged, because I knew what that was, and I knew what it wanted, too.
Oh, wow.
This couldn’t be happening. Could it? I’d had so many dreams about him over the past two months. Maybe I was asleep. Yeah, that had to be it. I’d wake up in a minute, and then I’d be able to laugh at how silly I’d been.