And then she pulled back.
He stilled, forcing himself to loosen his grip on her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her lips slightly swollen, her pupils blown wide. But there was something else in her expression—hesitation. Uncertainty.
Shit.
“Too fast?” he rasped, keeping his hands firmly at her waist but making no further moves.
She nodded slightly, looking almost embarrassed. “I just ... I haven’t done this in a while. And you...” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “You make me feel things I’m not sure I’m ready for.”
His chest tightened, but he nodded, brushing his thumb over her side in a soothing motion. “I get it. And I ain’t gonna push you, sweetheart.” He met her gaze, making sure she saw the sincerity there. “But don’t mistake me—I want you. Bad.”
A flush crept up her neck, and she bit her lip, glancing away. “I want you too, Gunner.”
His grip on her tightened briefly before he forced himself to step back, putting space between them before he lost all sense of restraint. He ran a hand over his beard, exhaling sharply. “Then we’ll do this right. No rush, no pressure.”
She smiled, small but genuine, and it damn near undid him. “I’d like that.”
He nodded once, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
He climbed back onto the bike and watched as she did the same, this time pressing even closer against him as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He felt her exhale against his back, felt the way her fingers clenched briefly in his shirt, and he smirked.
She might not be ready yet. But she would be. And when she was, he’d be right there, waiting. Because something told him that whatever this was between them, was worth the wait.
Chapter Six
The first thing Gunnernoticed when he pulled into Dawn’s apartment complex was her car sitting lopsided in the lot. He cut the engine and swung his leg over the bike, his stomach tightening as he took in the damage.
All four of her tires had been slashed—deep, deliberate cuts meant to send a message. And if that wasn’t enough, a single note had been left on her windshield. One letter: J. There was no doubt in Gunner’s mind who was behind it. Jesse.
He curled his hands into fists as he fought the urge to tear across town, hunt the bastard down, and beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Instead, he forced himself to take a breath. Dawn didn’t need his anger right now. She needed reassurance.
He made his way up to her apartment and knocked. A moment later, she opened the door, her face tense. “Gunner?”
“Saw your car,” he said, stepping inside. “You okay?”
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m fine. Just pissed.”
