Rage (A Thunder Gypsies MC Outlaw Biker Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

kill you. I heard Little Red talking to Weaver and the others. He said ‘We have to take Callan out,’ and that Bolo was back from Atlanta to take care of it.”
    “If they don’t know it’s you already, they will soon,” he warned. “They’ll get someone in the sheriff’s office to make a copy of the 911 call. Little Red is hot enough for you that he won’t have any problem recognizing your voice.”
    I blushed at the reference to Red. There was only one man in Thunder Valley I wanted hot for me and he was standing right in front of me, his body like a granite mountain and his brain almost as dense.
    “Yeah, they’ll know it’s me,” I acknowledged.
    His gaze went wide, like I was the dolt in the room. “You know what they’ll do to you, don’t you?”
    Wanting to hide my fear, I looked down at the sliver of space between our bodies. “Kill me, I guess.”
    “If you’re lucky, that’s all they’ll do.” Grabbing my shoulders, he pushed me further away from him until at least a foot of space separated us. Then he cupped the underside of my chin and forced me to look up at him.
    A gaze as green as a country meadow danced with so much light I couldn’t keep looking. I squeezed my eyes together, fresh tears spilling from their corners. “Yeah, they’ll do more than kill me, but I had to call.”
    “I know. You don’t have it in you to let someone get hurt if you can stop it.”
    I shook my head. The confession might be stupid, certainly I’d regret it later, but right then I had to tell him. “I don’t think I’m that good a person, Callan. I wasn’t protecting just anybody -- I was protecting you.”
    There, it was out. He could make of it what he would.
    He reeled me toward him, his hands suddenly on my waist and pulling me fast and hard. My body crashed into his and then he had his fingers threaded through my hair, controlling the tilt of my head as his mouth covered mine. His tongue, when he sought to part my lips, met with no resistance. I opened to him, surged up, licked in return when he stopped to allow me a short breath.
    I wanted to devour him in that kitchen, to take him in small and big chunks, my legs and arms wrapped around him. Ragged moans raced past my lips and into his until he had to spin me around and clamp his hand over my mouth once more to silence me.
    He lifted me onto the counter, his hips pushing my knees apart. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
    From the front room, my father bellowed.
    “Bring me another beer, girl!”
    Callan tensed against me, his body moving like he was throwing it on a live grenade and I was the explosive. Knowing it was my turn to calm him down, I wrapped my legs around his waist. I sheltered his ear with one hand as I bellowed in return.
    “On my way.” Lowering my hand, I brushed my cheek against Callan’s rougher one and whispered, “He’ll pass out before he can finish it. And then we’ll leave.”
    A growl vibrated through Callan’s throat, but he didn’t forbid me from taking another beer out to my dad. Cautiously, I pushed him from me and stared into his face. The gaze was fierce, but I couldn’t tell if the passion burning through them was anger or something carnal. Moisture flooded between my thighs and I knew what I wanted it to be -- pure, unadulterated lust.
    He’d opened just enough room between our bodies that I could slide to the floor, my breasts and thighs rubbing against him on my way down. One of those moans I had shoved down his throat earlier bubbled back at me and I had to hide my smile. If I didn’t know better, I would think Callan, like Little Red, had been nursing a case of the hots for me.
    I broke the seal on the refrigerator and reached in for a cold beer. In the hour we’d been home, my dad had already plowed through five cans. When I backed up, it was into the hard body of Callan Tilley. A sharp thrill raced through me and I wondered how the hell I could have mistaken him for my father when he first