Ride Dirty (Raven Riders 3.50)

So their retreat was nearly over, school was about to begin, and—

“We’re no fucking closer to identifying this asshole than we were a week ago,” Caine grumbled as he paced in her small kitchen and scrubbed at his hair.

He had a habit of doing that when he got worked up about something, and it gave him a look like he’d just rolled out of bed after having sex with her. And that pretty much made Emma want to drag him back to bed to make that come true.

Because, good God, Caine was giving her the best sex of her life. On the floor, the couch, her bed (of course), and on the steps when they hadn’t been able to make it up to her bed. In the shower and bent over the kitchen counter. For six days they hadn’t held back once from indulging in each other. And even though she was exhausted and sore, Emma didn’t want it to end.

Not ever.

Not ever. Her heart panged. Because apparently, it only took six days of non-stop sex with the man willing to risk himself to protect her to make Emma fall in love.

“We will be when your friend finishes his analysis of the traffic camera, though, right?”

He growled and stalked out of the kitchen. Each of the past two days, Caine’s frustration had grown. And since she knew it was born of misplaced guilt and concern for her, she didn’t hold it against him. In truth, she was frustrated, too. Because she had no idea how she was supposed to go about her normal routine knowing she had a stalker.

“What should I make for breakfast?” she called.

“Whatever you want. I’m not hungry,” came his reply.

She stepped into the doorway that led to the dining room and found him peering out the front windows. Grinning, she shimmied her panties down and stepped out of them, leaving herself naked beneath her long sleepshirt. “How about me for breakfast then?”

When he peered at her, she twirled the lacey scrap of fabric on her finger and gave him her best sexy look.

His expression softened. “You’re too fucking sexy for your own good.”

She made her way to the living room. “Right back at you, biker man.” She gave him a pointed once over in that Under Armour shirt. Never intending to stay the night, let alone a week, he’d been in the same outfit, alternating between wearing the black long-sleeve and the white short-sleeve and washing the lot of it every other day. But as far as she was concerned, he could wear that black base layer for the rest of his life and she’d never get tired of seeing the way it clung to the shape of him.

Suddenly, he came at her. “Have you thought about what that really means yet?” he asked, his voice harsher than she’d heard in more than a week.

“What?” she asked, bewildered.

“That I’m a biker. A Raven Rider. And that sometimes we cross lines when we have to.” He nailed her with a stare.

“Uh, okay. I mean, your friend is illegally hacking into a government camera system. For me. So how judgmental can I be about—”

“I got shot,” he said, cutting her off as he held up his hand, the one with all the scars stretching down over the wrist. She’d asked about it one day, but it was one of those questions he hadn’t answered. “A lowlife from a gang in Baltimore drove by Dare’s house and shot it up while a bunch of us were there. Haven and her friend, Cora, were both shot, too, and ended up in surgery fighting for their lives. One of my brother’s little boys, too.”

She gasped. “Oh, my God.”

“Ask me what happened to the shooter.” He arched a brow over eyes so suddenly cold that she could hardly meet his gaze.

“Why are you do—”

“Ask me,” he said, getting up in her space.

“Stop it,” she said, not because she didn’t want to know, but because what he was doing here wasn’t informational.

“We don’t hide from the truth, right, Em?” The hint of a mocking tone was more than she could take.

“Right, which is why I have to say that you’re being a dick.” Now she was the one arching a brow. “You have things you want to talk about, Caine. I’m always happy to talk or to listen. But don’t you dare do this.”

Something flashed behind his eyes. Regret? Fear? Resolve? She wasn’t sure, because then it was gone again and this…meanness was back. “I’ll tell you what happened to him. A couple of us went after him and the guy who told him where we were, and we caught them. And then, knowing that one man had repeatedly done things to hurt and endanger our members, and the other had just shot four of our people and would just keep coming for us if we let him go—”