Page 101 of Rags's Awakening
He swung a leg over the bike and fired up the engine. He held out his arm to help her on.
“Even though you said you’ve been on a bike, I just want to remind you to follow my lead and lean with me. Don’t fight the curves or turns, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, throwing her leg over the seat and settling in behind him.
Rags looked over his shoulder at her and their eyes locked. “You good to go?”
“Ready,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Once they rode out of town, he rolled on the throttle, the scenery dissolving into a gray-and-black blur. Casey felt good behind him, her body molded to his, her arms locked around his waist.
When he leaned into the first long curve, he expected her to grab him in a panic, but she didn’t. She moved with him, loose and steady, riding the turn like she knew exactly what she was doing. When he dropped the Harley low, she didn’t fight the pull of it. She tipped her head over his shoulder, eyes tracking the road ahead, knees tight to his hip.
His breath caught. Casey wasn’t just along for the ride. She was in it.
He opened the throttle, the engine’s growl swallowing the wind, and felt her press closer—not out of fear, but because she wanted to be right there with him. At that point, Rags knew she hadn’t just been on a bike a few times. She’d spent real time on the back of one, and she hadn’t said a damn word about it.
Whose bike?
The burning question hit him deep in the gut as he realized he didn’t know as much about Casey as he thought he did.
Chapter Twenty-One
Thin lines ofsunlight filtered through the window shutters as Rags stepped out of the bathroom, steam from the shower trailing behind him. He gazed at Casey and smiled, memories of their night together flashing through his mind. She lay on her side, her face half-buried in the pillow, her untamed hair strewn over her shoulders. A slow smile spread across Rags’s mouth at the memory of his fingers tangled in those silky strands while thrusting into her hard and fast.
His gaze roamed over her, landing on the swell of her breasts and the slight glimpse of puckered nipples as the sheet slipped down. His groin twitched, and he sucked in a breath. Casey touched something deep inside him, stirring feelings he didn’t want. It was more than the way she fused with him during sex, or screamed out his name. More than her sexy curves and bewitching eyes. It was the way she laughed, frowned, tossed her hair when she was pissed.
It was her.
A soft moan anchored him back to the room. Sleep-heavy, a puff of breath slipped through her parted lips. He shuffled over to the bed and bent down, ready to slip his tongue inside her sweet mouth, when his phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen and groaned: Hawk.
Straightening, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“What’s up?” he asked, leaning against the back of the couch.
“Banger’s calling church at noon,” the vice president said.
Rags checked the clock on his phone: three hours. He sighed. He’d planned on spending the better part of the day with Casey.
“Anything going on?” he asked, knowing something had to be up to meet three days before the club’s regular church.
“Yeah. We’re gonna discuss the Devil’s Reign’s annihilation, for one, and we got a problem with some dirtbags intimidating our loan customers. I’m thinking they’re in with the Devil’s assholes, but we’ll get into it today.”
Rags ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I figured you didn’t know since you’re not at the clubhouse.”
Rags heard the chuckle in Hawk’s voice and tensed. “Gotta go. See you in a few.”
Clutching the phone, he shuffled back to the bedroom.
Casey was still sleeping, so he shrugged on his clothes and went to the kitchen. His stomach grumbled while he opened cupboards, looking for anything that resembled coffee grounds. Spotting a bag, he grasped it and searched for a coffee maker. Soon the rich notes of molasses followed by a bitter edge filled the room.
Rags opened the refrigerator and spotted a carton of eggs, a container of mushrooms, a jar of roasted red peppers, and a bag of onions. He pulled everything out along with a bag of shredded cheddar, then searched for a frying pan. Pouring the coffee into a mug, he took a sip and relished the warmth and bold flavor sliding down his throat.
“What’re you doing?” Casey asked.
He spun around.
