After my quality bathroom time, I plan on taking Rain to the clubhouse for the baby shower. Our departure is delayed, however, because it takes longer than I expect to work out the terms of our arrival. Turns out Rain’s not real flexible about her working conditions. She refuses to let me put her in a cake or a gigantic box so that she can jump out screaming Surprise! She says the shock of that might bring on pre-term labor.

I think she might finally be starting to believe me about Keelie Sue, don’t you?

I shoot her new suggestions while we make the half-hour drive to the clubhouse. According to the invitation I stole from Marly’s purse, it’s a brunch thing and it starts at ten o’clock. Since we don’t leave my place until a few minutes before eleven, I’m hoping that all of the guests will have had plenty of time to knock back some celebratory champagne.

Rain bitched about not having clean clothes to change into, which is not a problem wolves have. If I’m dirty, I shift. Fur fixes most problems, I find, and anything else I can usually kill. I sort of feel bad for her that her life’s so goddamned complicated.

Since we were running late for our really important date, I didn’t want to “swing by her place so she could change” and I didn’t want to hit the Walmart (fucking Gucci wouldn’t be good enough for Rain as far as I’m concerned, plus… time crunch). One thing I’ve already figured out about Rain, however, is that even while she’s running her mouth, she’s running her brain. And she’s got a really big, scary smart brain, so she’ll always come up with a plan.

Sure enough, when she got done venting her feelings about day-old clothing, she ransacked my closet looking for shit to wear. She’s ended up in yesterday’s scrub pants and one of my Hanes T-shirts. Naturally, it’s far too big for her, so she’s tied the ends around her waist. Summer in Louisiana is a bitch, so she can’t be comfortable. When I point this out, she snarls. I’m also not sure what she’s got going on underneath, but since I’m a commando guy myself, her options were limited. I’m betting she’s naked and it’s downright distracting.

She’s so fucking cute.

No. Scratch that. She’s gorgeous; I don’t know why she doesn’t recognize that truth. She’s this all-American, wholesome looking brunette with a spray of freckles that demand kissing and a pair of brown eyes that suck you in. Not sure what happens next, after the sucking, but I’m kind of looking forward to finding out. It doesn’t matter what she’s wearing. In fact, it’s a pity she’s wearing anything at all. I’m smart enough not to point that out, however.

This time when I put her in my truck, I don’t tie her up. I do wait for her to buckle up, however, before I start the engine. Wolves can fly through the windshield, but humans are more fragile. She insists I buckle in too, even though that’s gonna slow my roll if I need to get out and fight. Whatever. I do what she asks and get the Fang and Rain Show on the road. We roll the windows down on my truck to catch the breeze, and then we peel out. Turns out Rain likes speed, too. Once we finish arguing over the radio channel, we tear down the dirt road doing fifty and belting out Beyoncé. Rain may be singing about wedding rings while my thing is more cock rings, but tomato-tomatoh.

I make a flying pit stop for more Egg McMuffins when Rain’s stomach drowns out the radio. Rain picks out the Canadian bacon and hands it over, which makes me a double-winner. She’s talky, too. I try to tell her about Keelie Sue, but she shuts me down. There are “privacy concerns” and “patient/doctor confidentiality.” There’s practically a tornado in my truck’s cab from all the air quotes she’s tossing my way. Instead, she wants to know about the MC and what it’s like being part of a biker club. I tell her what I can, although we’ve got our own code of silence.

“Are we cool?” I ask her when we’re close to the clubhouse.

She snorts. “Are you asking if I’m going to have you arrested now that you’ve bought me breakfast?”

“Twice.” I wink at her. “I bought you breakfast twice because I’m a total giver.”

“Har-de-har-har.” She takes an enormous slurp of soda.

Since I’ve already polished off my coffee, I reach over and snag her cup. Of course, part of the attraction is that it is hers. I place my lips where hers have been and do a little pretending.

“You’d have let me go,” she says firmly. “Last night. Now. You’re not a kidnapper.”

The truth is, I am. I’ve already pointed out to you that I’m not a nice guy. I’m a closer. I get the job done, whatever it takes. Killing, maiming, cold-blood killing—I offer a full menu of options. Of course, I have a feeling that Rain is too nice to understand that. She takes care of her pregnant ladies because it’s the right thing and because she’s promised to be there for them. Not that I know her all that well, but I’ve noticed a few things sitting in her office and sleeping with her. Might not have involved my dick, but my big head was still working. Rain’s mature, responsible, kind to puppies, babies, and pregnant ladies, all because that’s just how she is. Her shit’s probably unicorn-colored as well because she’s just so goddamned nice.

Huh.

Guess we really are opposites.

None of this would be necessary if Jace had shrink-wrapped his dick and kept his super swimmers out of a certain vagina, but he didn’t and they hit the target. Scored a hole in one. And since I don’t like the way I feel when I remember my part in their getting together, I’m gonna make it up to them. This villain’s done doing bad shit—except for kidnapping a certain midwife and insisting she play baby doctor to a werewolf.

Not that she knows about that part. The wolf thing stays under the cone.

She reaches over and steals the soda back. “That’s mine.”

I kind of wish she’d take me that way.

“You think I play by the rules?”

She chugs her drink and shakes her head, the ultimate multi-tasker. That’s another thing I’ve noticed about Rain—she’s always busy, always getting shit done. “But you wouldn’t hurt me.”

I’m tempted to pull over and show her all the ways I won’t hurt. Wouldn’t take me long to peel those scrubs off her. Wouldn’t even have to take them off, just down far enough to make room for my dick between her legs. Thank Christ her eyes are fixed on the road because just like that I’m rock hard.

“Most people don’t like me much, and trust me less.”

“So you’re the big, bad wolf.” She grins at me over the lid of her cup.

“Absolutely.”

She snorts. Of course she thinks I’m joking. She has no fucking clue what I am.

Or what I want to do.

“You should be careful,” I add. “I might bite.”

“You’re a crappy salesman,” she says. “You want me to help you with your not-girlfriend, and yet you keep telling me scary stuff. Should I be more concerned about her? Is your buddy Jace an even bigger asshole? Why can’t Keelie Sue come into my office?”

I laugh at that. “Jace is an asshole, no disputing that. But Keelie Sue’s got her man wrapped around her little finger. Sun rises and sets on her as far as he’s concerned—she’s his fucking horizon. His whole goddamned world.”

“That bothers you?”

“Why would it?” Liar. The clubhouse is just up ahead and we’ll be there in five. I can’t regret stealing Rain away, but now I’m wishing I’d planned this a little better. Or at all. In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to play shit by ear, and this whole baby doctor thing is no exception.

“Because he’s part of your club,” Rain says, like it’s obvious. “Because he was your brother and you hung out together and did whatever it is that bikers do.”

From her tone, I’m pretty certain she thinks that it encompasses a whole lot of felonies. She’s not entirely wrong.

“He wanted to be president.” I ease up on the gas. “He got his wish.”

“You said that Keelie Sue’s the center of his universe. Sounds to me like he also got hit with the feeling stick.”

“Feeling stick?” Christ, she makes me smile.

“Yeah.” She answers my smile with one of her own. “Feelings. You familiar with what those are, Fang?”

I pull in while I think about my answer. It’s early, and thanks to Keelie Sue’s shower, the lots got more cars than bikes in it at the moment. I figure my brothers are smart enough to avoid chick hour at the clubhouse unless they’re on security detail or don’t have a choice. Baby showers aren’t my thing either, but Keelie Sue’s here, so that’s where I go. Plus, I’m definitely wolf non-grata at her mate’s place. He’s not happy when I get anywhere close to her, so it has to be the clubhouse. A prospect shoves off the wall and hightails it toward us. He’s either got good customer service instincts or he recognizes my cage. I kill the engine and look at Rain.

“Sure,” I say easily. “You want to know my favorite feeling? I’m happy to tell you. Number one on my list is that tight feeling I get in my balls right before I shoot my load. Best fucking sensation in the world because I know that very next feeling is gonna be amazing.”

The prospect skids to a halt like he’s gut-punched. Yeah. He’s clearly not a big fan of discussing feelings, either.

“Sensations aren’t feelings.” Rain reaches over and pats me on the shoulder. Like I’m two or ninety-six. Good thing I’m lacking in the feelings department or I’d be seriously hurt.

I toss my keys to the prospect. “Show time, babe.”

I pop the door, jump out, and saunter around to her side of the truck. Rain hasn’t grown any since I kidnapped her yesterday, and there’s a whole lot of empty space between the floor of my truck and the parking lot. I pop her door open, reach up, and set my hands around her waist. And maybe I am working on growing some feelings or something because I kind of want to shove her back in the truck and drive somewhere private. Maybe they’re like one of those chia pet things or a sea monkey? It has to be sea monkeys. You’ve seen them, right? The box is cute and you think you’re about to get all kinds of loving special but instead you get an ugly ass brine shrimp.

Rain snort-giggles, batting at my hands. New game. My borrowed girl is ticklish.

Still, I’m operating under a time crunch here, so I reluctantly remove my fingers from her sides. I don’t let go, though. Nope. I’ve still got her pinned between my truck and me. A mattress would be better, but I’ve fucked under far more challenging circumstances. Her thighs brush again mine, her pussy teasing my dick. The beautiful thing about scrubs is that they have an elastic waistband. I hook my thumb in the side and brush my thumb back and forth over bare skin.

“You should have asked me to come out here and see Keelie Sue.”

“Really?” We’ve covered this ground before. Extensively. I’m aware of her feelings on the subject and I don’t see the need to reprise them. Plus, I’m not sure Rain knows how to summarize. She’d give me the long version—again—and then we’ll never make it inside before the girls finish presenting Keelie Sue with a crap load of baby accessories.

“You need to learn to use your words.” She pokes a finger into my chest. The finger seems to be her favorite way of punctuating her sentences, but I’m stuck on the words that just came out of her mouth. About my asking for shit.

I don’t ask.

Ever.

So even though I may be challenged in the communication department, I know that what she just said translates into beg me. As if asking works anywhere near as well as taking. I have a lot of unhappy memories of my childhood self asking for shit as basic as food, water, and a chance to get out of the broiling heat. All of those requests were denied, with a belt, a fist, or a scathing indictment of my wolfish antecedents. So now I don’t ask and everything is much simpler.

And since now she’s put me in a bad mood, I cage her against the truck, bracing my forearms on either side of her face. She’s a tiny thing—I have to lean down to make my point. “You don’t ask a bacon double cheeseburger if it wants to be dinner; you just make it so.”

Rain likes that comparison about as well as you’d expect.

“You’re a Neanderthal.” She plants her hand against my chest and shoves. “Do you ever ask for anything?”

I don’t even have to think. “Never.”

Truth is, since I broke the chains pinning me down in my grandfather’s yard, I’ve always taken. Asking puts you in the weak position because the other wolf can shoot you down. But Rain’s not a wolf. She’s human. She’s got a nice side, a sweet, warm side with a spine of steel that makes me think she’d actually make an awesome fucking wolf.

“Ask me now,” she demands. And I won’t do that, won’t ask for what I can’t have, won’t submit. I may show my throat to my Alpha, but we both know that’s a temporary state of affairs. Some day real fucking soon, I’ll have my own pack—or I’ll be dead. I’m fine with either option.

“Never gonna hurt you,” I promise her instead. “Now tell me how you feel about bows.”

She gapes at me. Good enough. I’ll take that as a yes. Since she’s the one who’s so big on words, she should use them if she’s got an objection. I grab the ginormous pink bow from the duffel bag rattling around in the truck bed, toss Rain over my shoulder, stick that ribboned sucker on her ass, and head for the clubhouse.

The prospect mutters something behind us. Sounds a hell of a lot like death wish, or maybe that’s just the outraged commentary Rain unloads in my ear as she bucks on my shoulder.

I smack her ass, partly to settle her down, partly because the best parties have party favors and I plan on making her mine.

Time to give Keelie Sue her present.