Page 187 of Rags's Awakening
Waving their goodbyes, he fired up the engine, loving the sound as it shattered the quiet of the neighborhood. The low, guttural rumble of the pipes made him feel alive. Casey looped her arms around his waist and pressed against his back as he pulled away from the curb, the heavy vibration from the Harley thrumming through them.
By the time Rags pulled into their garage, the night was quiet under a canopy of stars. The Harley grumbled to a halt. He kept both boots wide and flat on the concrete, front brake clamped hard.
“Okay, babe,” he muttered, giving her thigh a firm squeeze. “You first.”
She gripped his leather-clad shoulders and stepped off the bike, letting her hands slide down his chest before stepping back.
Rags dismounted and winked at Casey. Her cheeks were still a little flushed from the wind and chill of the night. He closed the garage door and followed her into their kitchen. She looked beautiful, but there was a quiet, almost dazed look on her face as she dropped her sling bag on the counter.
“I’m beat,” she said, kicking off her short boots.
“Get yourself a drink and pour a shot of Jack for me,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the couch.”
He went into the bedroom and rummaged through the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulled out a plastic bag. A moment later, he was on the couch with Casey sitting next to him, watching her sip her wine. He threw back the shot of whiskey and set the glass on the coffee table.
“I got you something, Case.”
“What?” she asked, her eyelids heavy.
“Something priceless.” Rags reached down and pulled up the plastic bag. “Here.”
Casey opened the bag and stalled, her eyes darting to his then back to the bag. “Rags,” she said, her breath hitching.
“I want you to be my old lady, Case.”
She pulled out the leather vest and ran her fingers over the white stitching on the back: Property of on the top line, Rags’s name in the middle, and Insurgents MC on the bottom.
“You know what this means, Case. In the club, it means you’re mine,” he whispered, his hand stroking her cheek. “But to me? It means we’re locked in. I love you, babe. I want you right beside me for all of it—the life we build together and the club I ride for. You’re in my blood now. You’re my family, and you’re part of this brotherhood.”
She held his eyes as she pressed the vest close to her. “I’d be honored to be your old lady. I’ll wear your property patch proudly because you’re my man, Rags.”
She jumped up and slipped the cut on. It was a perfect fit. Grinning, she threw herself at him, and he laughed as he held her close.
“I love you, Rags. I feel safe, protected, and loved. Right now, I feel like I’ve finally found my place and it’s with you for the rest of my life.”
“Case, you’re my woman for always. You complete me, babe, in the best way. Love you, woman.” He crashed his mouth against hers and held her tight, never wanting to let her go.
“Now, how about a ride and me wearing your patch as you throw me over the seat of your Harley,” she whispered as she nibbled on his ear.
“You’re killing me, Case.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
Rags crushed her against him and kissed her hard. “I want you wearing my patch while I bang you,” he gritted.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She winked.
He jumped up, pulling her with him in one fluid move. “I got blankets in my saddlebags. I’ll grab the bottle of Jack and red wine,” he said.
“I’ll be working from home tomorrow, for sure.” She giggled.
“I think I’ll be making some bullshit excuse to Throttle tomorrow,” he said, as he snagged her hand and headed toward the garage door.
Casey slipped on her boots and they stepped into the garage. He rolled his Harley down the driveway, then fired it up. The engine thrummed between Rags’s thighs, but his eyes were locked on Casey. When she turned, the silver moonlight caught the bold letters of his patch on her cut. A fierce, possessive pride flared in his chest.
She climbed on behind him, her arms wrapping around his waist. Rags dropped it into gear, cracked the throttle open, and the Harley surged forward. Casey pressed against his back, her hands slipping down low just above his crotch. The wind swallowed his laugh as he increased the speed.
For the first time in his life, the shadows of his past couldn’t touch him. Casey had chased away the bitterness, replacing it with something steady, real, and all his own. The engine rumbled beneath them, a steady heartbeat against the cool night. He guided the bike out onto the empty backroad. Casey felt warm and soft against him, her cheek resting against the nape of his neck. With her in his life, in his corner, it was just the beginning of everything.
